By Your Side
by AnnaMarie890
Summary: Loki's crippling fall from the Bifrost has left him at the mercy of fate. Angry and unwilling to accept defeat, the God of Mischief now wanders Midgard, visiting bad luck on whoever is foolish enough to invite it. Rated T for language, frightening situations and mild violence. Rating may increase to M for later chapters. Loki/OC Post-Thor/Pre-Avengers
1. A Visit From Mischief

Thunder rumbled and lighting flashed white in the distance. The storm had come on suddenly near an hour ago, and hadn't lowered in intensity since it began. Angela dried the big red clay pot she had been washing and placed it back on the stove. Sighing, she looked around the kitchen and then, satisfied with its cleanliness, went to join her little brother in the living room. She found him lying on the big brown leather couch, absorbed in one of his many books. He shifted constantly, moving from his stomach to his side then back onto his stomach.

Scott was a small boy, even for his age. He had just turned ten a month ago, but his bones still poked through his pale skin. He had spiky strawberry blonde hair and the most beautiful cloud grey eyes. Angela watched him as he kicked his legs leisurely back and forth and turned to the next page in his story. She smiled as she watched his facial expression change with what he was reading, sometimes mouthing the words of the characters as they spoke.

Angela turned her attention to the big open fireplace in the center of the room. Deeming it too dull for her liking, she tossed another small log onto the fire and watched the flames hungrily engulf their prey. She noticed a dirty plate on the floor next to Scott. It had what remained of a few chocolate-chip cookies: nothing but tiny crumbs. Half annoyed, half entertained by his antics, Angela said,

"So that's where the last of my cookies went, hmm?"

Scott smiled without looking up from his book.

"Mhmm, and they were delicious."

Shaking her head and laughing, Angela bent down and picked up the dirty plate. She returned to the kitchen and switched on the faucet. An unexpected stream of hot water hit Angela's hand, burning her. She yelped and instantly recoiled, and accidently dropped the plate she had been holding. The plate shattered, sending lethal shards of glass over the marble tile floor. Angela leapt back to avoid the shards as quickly as she could, but only succeeded in impaling her heel with a stray sliver. She bit her tongue to keep from cursing at her bad luck, pulling herself up onto the counter. Scott immediately dropped his book and ran over to his big sister. He stared at the glass and then up at his sister.

"Are you okay!?"

Angela nodded hastily, still holding her wounded foot.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine… could you go get me as first aid kit?"

Scott nodded his head and ran off down the hall to retrieve the kit. Angela winced as her finger accidently touched the small piece of glass now imbedded in her heel. Scott returned with the first aid kit, and Angela proceeded to painfully remove the glass and begin sanitizing the wound. Scott watched his big sister as she cleaned the wound.

She was so brave. She never let on to how bad something hurt or how upset she was. Whatever was happening, she was always smiling. And, just like his mom, she loved unconditionally. Though Angela never saw it this way, Scott always looked to her as he would his mother. She was the one he felt safe with, the one he trusted with his secrets. Not even his father knew half of the things he told Angela.

Suddenly Scott's dog, Charlie, as he had been named, a big black and white Siberian husky rose from his comfortable fire-side bed and ran to the sliding glass door that looked out over the vineyards. He growled menacingly, and then let out a series of harsh and painfully loud barks. Angela moaned and covered her ears.

"Oh my… Scott, can you please get him to stop?"

"Charlie! Here boy! Come here!"

However, Scott's coaxing achieved nothing. The animal continued to bark wildly and also began to scratch at the window. Angela did her best to ignore the animal and continued to attend to her injury. Scott ran over to Charlie and took a hold of his collar, trying to pull him away from the window and calm him down, which only resulted in the dog whining and howling louder.

"My gosh!" Yelled Scott above Charlie's racket. "Looks like Mischief has visited us! Ha, ha!"

Angela, not fully understanding him, titled her head and said,

"What are you talking about?"

Scott gave up holding onto the huge dog, allowing him to run back to the window and continue barking at the raging storm. He crossed the floor to the big brown couch and picked up the book he had previously been reading. Walking over to his sister, he flipped back a few pages and held up the book. Angela took her eyes from her now bloody foot and looked at what he was pointing to.

It was an illustration. The drawing depicted a pale, sickly man dressed in a black tunic and silver armor. He was hunched over with a wicked smile on his face, rubbing his hands together.

"Mischief," Scott said again. "That's him."

Scott pulled the book back to him and flipped through a few more pages. Angela smiled inwardly as she watched her little brother immerse himself in his fantasies.

"His name's Loki, he's a liar and a trickster. He brings chaos and misfortune usually, but if you can get him to like you, he may give you gifts."

"Oh, is that so?" Angela said, continuing to pull glass out of her foot. "What does it take to get him to like you? He sounds pretty mean to me."

Scott flipped back and forth a few more pages, his eyebrows wrinkling together as he sought out an answer.

"Hmm…"

Scott thought a little while longer, then abruptly closed the book and shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know, doesn't say anything about him being happy."

"Oh, well isn't that too bad," Said Angela. "Apparently he was never happy then."

Scott adopted an almost scholar like stance, chest puffed out and a hand on his hip.

"Well, technically we can't know for sure, we don't have an eye-witness account of his everyday life, so then we can't actually say he was never happy."

Angela shook her head and laughed. She loved Scott's vibrant imagination and quick mind; he always had something to say that brightened up her day… even a day like this.

The sky was constantly alight with flashes of lightning, and every few moments thunder would boom out its presence. The power had already gone out, a few candles dotted the kitchen counters and coffee tables, but the real light came from the cheery fire in the center of the living room. The warm light cast a golden glow through the windows, out over the hills and the vineyards that made up the Cresley Family Winery.

It was this golden light that had gained Loki's attention.

Loki's fall from the Bifrost had sent him tumbling down through the heavens on a crooked and twisted course. He felt like nothing more than a rabbit in a snare. His whole life, he had been nothing but a puppet, a marionette, being skillfully maneuvered by a master puppeteer. But those days were over. Odin… he would pay for his sins; he would suffer dearly. He would be pushed to the brink of death, dragged to the very depths of fear and madness. He would know how it felt to have everything he loved, everything he cherished, brutally pried from his grasp.

Even as Loki fell through the gap between the realms, Odin's horrible words rang through his head.

_No, Loki._

Already, his sharp mind was working. The trickster refused to be so soundly beaten. He knew what he was truly capable of. Thor… Odin… soon they would both recognize and fear his power. Then, they would realize their faults. Their fatal mistake to ever challenge the God of Mischief.

Now, Loki found himself wandering Midgard. He had somewhat expected to arrive in the same place he sent the Destroyer, but his journey through the realms had been so warped he wasn't surprised when, instead of finding a sparse, dry desert surrounding him, he saw only rolling hills and vineyards. The storm had bombarded his already broken and bleeding body with cold, and although any other man would have been dead by now, these things were only mere inconveniences. But even as he trudged aimlessly on, he knew that he needed both shelter and rest. It was at that moment he noticed the shimmering, golden house on the hill ahead of him. It strangely reminded him of Asgard and caused pain to tug at his heart. Quickly shaking all thoughts of home out of his mind, the God of Mischief walked on.

The house was impossible to miss. It sat high on a lofty hill that overlooked miles of vineyards, like a king sitting on this throne, watching over his kingdom. Loki knew these mortals would not understand nor take interest in him if he portrayed his true identity. So, he instead decided he would appeal to the universal weakness of humans; emotion.

Willing his golden armor and flourishing green cape to vanish, his attire slowly changed to that of an ordinary man. Now, he was clothed in a pair of dark denim jeans, a white t-shirt, and grey cardigan. Loki focused his sight on the house ahead of him, peering through the driving rain. His sharp eyes made out two figures, one tall and feminine, and the other short and very small. A mother and child he figured. He also noted an animal in the home, which he instinctively knew to be a dog, as it was a common household pet among the Midgardians. Satisfied with his appearance, Loki now only needed some sort of noise to spark interest.

He looked to his right. A small passenger vehicle with a lone driver was passing by.

Loki closed his eyes and focused his mind, sensing the car grow steadily closer. The driver, a middle aged man, was on his way home after a long business trip. He was anxious to see his family; to hold his wife in his arms again, and this resulted in him going just a little too fast on a wet road. Then it happened.

The God of Mischief's eyes snapped open and he shot his out. The metal hood of the car suddenly warped and the wheels locked up. Tires sliding on the wet pavement, both the car and its driver were helpless, and the automobile swerved off the road, tumbling and rolling into a roadside ditch. Loki strode calmly over to the edge of the road and gazed down at his work. The small car was completely shriveled, the metal contorted and bent severely out of shape. It lay on its side, all of its glass windows shattered, the lifeless body of its driver hanging over the side, still strapped in to his seat.

The God of Mischief climbed down into the ditch and pulled the dead man out of his vehicle. Placing a cold hand on the corpse's neck, he tossed it carelessly away from him, watching it crumble and disintegrate into the earth by his magic.

It was this crash that had reached Charlie's sensitive ears and sparked his barking. Even now, he clawed violently at the sliding glass door, desperate to discover what had caused such a strange noise.

Meanwhile, Angela and Scott had set up a game of chess and were just beginning the game.

"Do you want to be the gold or the silver?" Asked Scott as he lined up the metal pieces on the game board.

"Well… who goes first?"

"Gold always goes first."

"Hmm… I'll be gold then."

Before either of them could say another word, a sudden blast of cold air rushed into the house, extinguishing multiple candles and causing the fire to splutter and cough. Charlie had somehow managed to force open the glass door and was running full speed ahead towards the road, barking wildly.

"Charlie!" Screamed Scott. Forgetting his game of chess he ran after his dog out into the pouring rain.

"Scott! Get back here! You'll catch your death out there!"

Angela jumped up and bounded forward, pain shooting through her foot. Without giving any thought to herself, she grabbed one of Scott's sweatshirts that happened to lie nearby and ran out the door after him.

Angela found him at the bottom of the hill, staring blankly in front of him. Charlie was still barking wildly, though the animal didn't dare go any closer to observe the situation.

"Scott!"

Angela ran to him, placing the now damp sweatshirt around him. She shook him frantically, trying to get him to look at her.

"Don't you ever do anything like that again! What were you thinking?!"

Scott, still horrified, didn't answer. He was shaking horribly; though not from the cold. He slowly raised his hand, and pointed into the darkness.

Angela could see the fear in his eyes, and she immediately knew he has seen something that deeply frightened him. Releasing his shoulders gently, she stood upright and looked in the direction he was pointing.

A small, silver car lay in the ditch just off the side of the road. The metal was severely warped and all the windows were shattered. The still form of a man hung out the side of the car, still strapped into his seat by his seatbelt. His head was covered in blood that still flowed from a gash in his head, and both of his arms were sliced deep from the broken glass.

Angela, being trained as a nurse, lost no time. Ordering Scott to stay put, she scrambled down into the muddy ditch and made her way over to the wreckage. Pressing her hands to the man's neck, she felt for a pulse.

Amazingly, he was still alive.

She ran her hands over his neck and down his back, checking that no bones were broken. Finding no signs of a fracture, she pushed her body against his and undid the seatbelt, letting his weight fall on her.

"I.. is… is he alright?" Called Scott from the road.

"He's alive," yelled Angela in response as she laid the man down as gently as she could. "But he's badly hurt."

Angela put her ear by the man's face, listening for an exhale. A few tense seconds passed for Angela, and then she heard his breath, ragged and hollow._ He probably has blood in his throat_, she thought. She carefully pulled him towards her and cradled his head in her lap. She poked her index finger through his lips, trying to pry his mouth open. The man coughed and blood gurgled from his throat, dripping out of his mouth. Angela knew that she needed to get this man to the hospital or he wasn't going to live. So, with difficulty, she looped his arm around her shoulder and hoisted the half-conscious man up out of the ditch and led him up the road back to the house.

Once inside, Angela closed and locked the doors, then immediately set about making the wounded man comfortable. She removed his shoes and cardigan, then laid him on his back on the couch, tossing a thick, soft blanket over him. She bandaged his bleeding arms and then proceeded to dry his face with a towel.

"Is he going to be okay?" Asked Scott.

"I'm not sure, but the sooner we call an ambulance for him the better."

Angela went to the kitchen and retrieved a body wrap from the microwave. Returning to the man on the couch, she gently lifted his head and placed it under his neck. Then, almost involuntarily, she a paused and studied him.

His skin was pale, a trait Angela attributed to loss of blood. He had thin lips that were beautifully arched, almost as if they had mastered the art of lying. His hair was a deep black. It fell messily to just below his ear, wily and unkempt. His whole body, though slender and sickly looking, had a quiet strength about it. Angela was fascinated by him; he was the very embodiment of contradiction. He was handsome, and yet he held a certain cruelty about him. He was frail and lean, yet everything about him spoke a fierce vigor. He truly intrigued her.

Angela decided she had wasted enough time.

"Scott, would you bring me my cell phone please? It's on the entry table."

"Sure."

Angela stood slowly. She felt uneasy with this man here. Yes, he was injured and needed medical attention. It was just by luck they had noticed him, just a coincidence that she and her brother had found him and were able to help. However, she still felt anxious with this man in the house. He was a stranger. For all she knew he could have been drinking, perhaps that's how he had ended up in that accident. But it was also a very rainy night; it could have just been that the vehicle had spun out of control….

"Here you go." Said Scott as he returned with her cell phone in hand.

"Thanks."

Angela turned and took a few steps toward the kitchen. She crossed her fingers and turned on her phone, desperately hoping that she would be able to receive a signal.

Now, it was Scott's turn to stare at the wounded man lying on their couch. The small boy was also intrigued by him. He felt as if he had seen this man somewhere. His face, the way his body relaxed against the couch, his pastel skin, his mischievous face… it all seemed so familiar. So… horribly… familiar.

Scott's scream was suffocated as Loki clasped his cold hands over the boy's mouth.

Angela breathed a sigh of relief as her cell phone found reception. She began to punch in three digits on her phone.

"Please don't do that."

Angela froze. A voice like silk slithered up her spine and caused her to tremble. She looked back over her shoulder to find the man standing tall, Scott cringing in fear at his feet. Angela's mouth fell open and cold fear clutched her heart. Her knees felt weak as she watched her little brother tremble in fear, crumpled unnaturally on the floor.

"Drop it."

With difficulty, Angela pried her eyes off of Scott to look at the assailant.

His eyes – they were evil. Evil in every sense of the word. They were a deep, emerald green that glistened with malice and cunning. His stare invoked a horrible fear, and Angela was desperately afraid. Not so much afraid for herself, but afraid for her brother's life.

"Drop it."

The man's icy voice shook her out of her trance. She saw his wild eyes flick to the cell phone in her hand, and immediately understood his demand.

"I said," Impatience and irritation rang harsh in the man's voice, and he set his foot on Scott's thin legs, threatening to snap them under his weight.

"Drop it." He began to press his foot down on Scott's legs, and poor boy cried out. As he did so, his body began to shimmer and, slowly, his jeans and t-shirt vanished, and he was suddenly clothed in black leather armor.

"Now!"

Angela immediately obeyed.

"Wait! Please don't! Please! Don't hurt him…"

Loki leaned forward, pressing harder on Scott's fragile limbs. Scott was screaming now, tears streaming down his face.

"Please!" Angela was beginning to cry.

"Be silent!" He hissed at her. "Keep your emotional pleas to yourself. They mean nothing to me."

Loki removed his foot from the boy and leaned down. Grabbing the child by his shirt, he pulled him to his feet. Angela took a cautious step towards her brother, desperate to feel him in her arms… desperate to make him feel safe again. She had been so foolish! What was she thinking!? Allowing some strange man into their home! And now… her brother was being abused by this mad man!

If he hurt her brother, she would never be able to forgive herself.

Loki held the boy by his throat, relishing the in incredible fear that practically radiated off of his two hostages. He had expected a mother and her child, and to a certain extent, these two did act that way. But the woman in front of him looked no older than twenty years, much too young to be this boy's mother, and so he assumed them to be siblings. However, this girl looked absolutely nothing like the pale boy he held by the throat.

Her skin was tan and smooth, a pure contradiction to the pale, dry skin of the little boy. She had rich brown hair that fell down to just below her waist. Her lips were full and pastel pink. But the most intriguing thing about her was her eyes. They were ice blue. The most vibrant and lustrous blue Loki had ever seen. The way her dark hair fell in front of her face, the way her eyes reflected each flash of lightning, it was beautiful.

But he couldn't see any kind of resemblance between the two.

Perhaps she was one of those caretakers, the hired help. Of course, why else would she care about the little boy? She had to take care of him. If something happened to him, her job would be in jeopardy. No wonder she was so anxious. How pathetic. Either way, the girl would most likely to just about anything for him to keep the boy safe, that's all he needed.

"Now, I trust you will be providing me a more suitable sleeping arrangement."

Angela, still completely focused on her brother, nodded.

"Of… of course… I'll prepare a room for you…"

"Very good."

Loki shoved Scott towards the couch.

"Sit still, you hear?"

Scott nodded frantically and sat down on the edge of the sofa. Though he was young, he still understood the severity of the situation. His cooperation was vital.

Loki paced slowly back and forth in front of the couch, aware that the child was watching his every movement.

"So…" Said Scott, his voice frightened and high pitched. "You… you're really him?"

Loki stopped pacing and glanced at Scott over his shoulder.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're him… Mischief."

Loki raised an eyebrow and turned to face the boy. He saw something in his eyes that was unexpected: wonder.

"Yeah… Mischief… Loki. Bringer of bad luck, the God of Chaos and Anarchy."

A smile crept onto Loki's face.

"And how would you know so much about the God of Mischief?"

Scott glanced about, and then saw his book lying on the coffee table. He reached over and took it from the table, flicking through the pages until he found the section about Loki. He found the illustration, and held it up. Loki almost laughed as he saw the farfetched and inaccurate re-creation of himself.

"But that looks nothing like me, boy. How can you know that I am Loki?"

Scott brought the book back to his lap and turned the page. He scanned the writing for a moment and then began to read aloud.

"… The face of Loki is unmistakable, and unfortunately, impossible to perfectly recreate. Everything about the God of Mischief is evil, but one needs only to see his eyes, then they will know. There is no human with those eyes, for those are the eyes of a god. 'The eyes are the windows to the soul', it has been said. This has never been truer. One look into the eyes of Mischief, and you will understand for yourself."

Scott finished and closed his book, looking up at Loki, who was now directly in front of him.

"So," Scott said, "I could tell it was you once I saw your eyes."

Though he would never admit it, this fascinated Loki. This child, someone devoid of all the knowledge that comes with age, was able to recognize him by simply looking into his eyes. And not only that, but this boy could actually meet his eyes, and hold his gaze. Generally, whenever someone met his eyes, they turned away, afraid of him. It wasn't the same with this one. Oh, he was afraid, no doubt, but not afraid of _him_. He was only afraid of what he might _do_. That made all the difference to Loki.

"Humph… guess I was right then." Said Scott as he curled up on the couch, knees tucked to his chest.

"Looks like Mischief did decide to visit us after all."


	2. Innocence and Guilt

It had been three long days since Mischief had first visited the Cresley home, and Angela had not slept at all during his stay. She had desperately been trying her best to please Loki, knowing if he wasn't satisfied, his anger would be brought down upon her brother. She knew pleading with him did nothing to help Scott's position, so had concluded all she could do was make sure to carry out his orders as quickly and orderly as possibly, and so she had done this.

But still, Loki held on to Scott, almost like he was dangling the boy over her head, and telling her to jump higher in order to grab him. Every night, Loki took Scott into his bedroom, locking the door so Angela could not access him. It was the same this night.

Scott followed Loki up the staircase, chancing a glance backward over his shoulder at his sister. Angela knew that if Scott saw her fear and anxiety, he would also begin to feel even more nervous than he already was. That was the last thing she wanted, so with difficulty, she smiled reassuringly at him as Loki dragged the boy up the stairs behind him. Scott smiled back before disappearing around the corner with the God of Mischief.

Angela couldn't contain herself any longer. She clasped both of her hands over her head and sank to her knees, wailing in agony. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, and she rocked back and forth in misery. This was all her fault! The cold fear she felt was inescapable, it haunted her. The images of her brother, crying out in pain as Loki threatened to break his legs, flashed through her mind. She bit her lip, inwardly cursing her stupidity.

Suddenly, she became aware of Loki standing in front of her. Yelping, she leapt back. The God of Mischief eyed her curiously as she shuffled uncomfortably on the ground in front of him, trying to back away.

"The boy."

He said.

"Who is he to you?"

Still flustered by his presence, Angela just stared blankly for a moment.

"What do you mean…?" She started.

"The child," Loki cut her off "Who is he to you?"

"Well… he's my brother."

The God of Mischief chuckled, an amused smile on his face.

"I know that is not true. Look at the two of you. You are nothing alike. Quit lying to me."

"Well, we aren't blood related. I was adopted… but I mean… he's still my brother."

This caught the trickster off guard. He had seen them with each other; he had watched the way they interacted. They were obviously very close and had a strong bond… but now… this girl says that she was adopted. How then, could she… knowing that this so-called 'family' wasn't even hers, love the child like a brother? Surely there was some sort of distance between them? Curiosity over took Loki.

"How? Tell me."

"Well, um…"

Angela hoisted herself up off of the floor, holding onto the counter for stability. This wasn't really a topic she wanted to discuss with him, or anyone for that matter, but he seemed curious and she knew better than to rouse his temper by refusing to tell him the story.

"My mother was killed when I was seven years old, and I never knew my father."

"How did she die?"

"A drunk driver hit her while she was on her way home one night."

Angela's throat clenched as she spoke, her mind flashing back to the night her mother never made it home.

"And what became of your father?"

Loki's voice pulled her out of her trance, and she answered.

"I never knew him. He left my mother before I was born."

"And what did you do when your mother was killed?"

Angela wondered why he took such an interest in her past, but proceeded with her story nonetheless.

"Well, I was put in foster care. I just went from house to house as it was convenient for a family to take me. Then after a while, I was adopted."

"Where are the parents then? You and the boy are here alone, are you not?"

"We are… it's my parent's anniversary, they always go out of town for about a week or two to celebrate. They asked me to come and stay with Scott while they were away. That's why it's just me and him here."

Loki paused a moment… what she had just said… 'My parents'. How could she say that? They weren't her real parents, and she knew it. If she had been taken in by the couple at birth, it would be different, but her, she knew what happened, she knew she was adopted…

"You call them your parents; you speak of them as if they were your own flesh and blood."

Angela cocked her hear slightly to one side, not understanding why this topic fascinated him so much. He took a step towards her, causing her to flinch.

"So you throw away your previous life," He continued, his expression hardened in anger.

"And embrace the lies of family that isn't yours. You pretend to be one of them, to be one of 'the family', but in reality, you are just an orphan. Unwanted and abandoned – you're here because you had nowhere else to go."

Something in Angela snapped. And, against her better judgment, she lashed out with her own harsh words.

"Who do you think you are? How dare you say that I was unwanted! My mother loved me with her whole heart!"

Angela fought the lump she felt in her throat, trying desperately not to cry.

"And yes, you could say I am an orphan, but… 'Here cause I had nowhere else to go?' I am so lucky to be here, to have a family, to have a home. A permanent home. I am blessed beyond belief, and I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Loki stared down at her, amazed by what he saw.

She changed so suddenly...

In one moment, everything about Angela had completely shifted. It was almost like second personality. She went from being nervous and frightful to being bold and demanding. Her bright blue eyes flashed angrily, fists clenched at her sides. She met his gaze as she spoke, not looking away like she had all those other times.

Those times when he threatened to hurt her little brother. _She doesn't care about what becomes of her… _He thought. _All she cares about is her brother's safety._ Loki wasn't sure if this should make him pleased or distressed. That kind of mentality, that kind of sacrifice, if you will, it boggled the trickster's mind.

_If you destroy the bridge you'll never see her again!_

His own harsh words rang through his head, causing him to clench his teeth in agony. He remembered vividly Thor's brutal destruction of the Bifrost; his desperate attempt to save Jotunheim. By saving the Frost Giants, he had severed all hopes of ever returning to Earth, all hopes of ever returning for the mortal woman he claimed to love. She had turned him soft… she had made him weak.

And yet… this same attitude of sacrifice, that was so evident in the young woman before him, spoke only of bravery. The strength, the courage it took to put yourself last, it was fascinating. Loki wondered what it felt like to be entwined in such a feeling. Not just to have the courage it takes to surrender and put others before you, but to be on the receiving end of that kind of sacrifice. To know that someone was risking everything, willingly, to protect you… what did that feel like? An incredible jealously swept over Loki as he pondered this thought.

Angela suddenly realized what a dangerous move she had made. What was she thinking, yelling at him like that? If he was upset, Scott would be the one to pay for it. Oh, she hated this! She hated him! The anger she felt was apparent throughout her whole body. Her shoulders were tense, her back rigid, her fists clenched tight… but she knew better than to continue shouting at him. So, with difficulty, she relaxed her stiff body and strode calmly past Loki towards the living area. He thought about intercepting her a moment, but then decided to allow her to pass by him unhindered.

She began unfolding a blanket that lay on the back of one of the couches, spreading it out over the cushions. Loki watched her silently, his mind still reeling over the thought of what it felt like to have someone who would give anything for you, someone who would be willing to risk everything…

Someone who truly loved you.

Having decided he had already wasted enough time, Loki turned and went swiftly back up the stairs to his bedroom.

Scott heard footsteps approaching and quickly retreated from the bedroom door. He had been desperately trying to hear what was going on below, but even with his ear pressed to the wood, he had achieved nothing for his efforts. Scrambling back over to the loveseat in the corner of the room, Scott lay down next to Charlie. The big dog had refused to leave his small master, although the presence of the God of Mischief frightened the animal as much as it did Scott.

Loki stepped through the door slowly, his eyes automatically flying towards Scott. He lay on his side facing away from the door, curled up in the fetal position.

"I would have expected you to be asleep by now, boy."

Scott gave up feigning his slumber and rolled over to look at Loki. He locked the door as he did every night, and then proceeded to prepare for bed. Scott watched as Loki carefully pulled the elegantly decorated pieces of metal and leather off of his person and arranged them orderly on the coffee table that lay in the center of the room. Every night Scott had watched Loki as he relieved himself of the heavy Asgardian body armor, leaving him only in a pair of grey trousers.

One might think that, without the trappings and wardrobe of an Asgardian, perhaps Loki would be less intimidating. This was not true in the slightest. His tall figure and demanding features spoke danger. Just the way he carried himself and the way he spoke, he behaved like he was used to being obeyed. And yet, for some insane reason, Scott was no longer afraid of Loki. Oh, he knew what the swindler was capable of, no doubt, but he didn't fear him.

He respected him.

Phil Coulson was nervous. He had seen these symbols before, and knew them to be the bearers of bad luck. He ran his hand over the golden sheet of metal that lay shattered and dented in the ground before him.

Three hours ago, massive energy readings had appeared out of nowhere, and then just as quickly disappeared. They were the same energy readings that had appeared when the Destroyer arrived in New Mexico.

Coulson knelt down and ran his hand over the faint markings that were now burned into the ground surrounding the crash site.

"Let's get some light on this. Start the thermal scanners; I want to know what this thing is."

Rising to his feet, he turned his back on the situation and took out his cell phone. He took a few paces forward, in case the metal sheet behind him gave off any kind of interference.

"Well? Did we guess right?" Fury's voice came over the phone.

"Oh, it's Asgardian, no doubt. The symbols are unmistakable, but it doesn't appear to be any kind of weapon. It's just a piece of debris, it's nothing danger—"

His voice trailed off as he saw blood stains on the grass in front of him. Someone, or something, had obviously been severely injured. The ground beneath Coulson was disturbed, and, even in the dull moonlight, he could make out footsteps in the soil

"Coulson!" Nick Fury's harsh tone grabbed his attention. "What is it?"

"Sir, the debris isn't the only thing that fell from the sky."

Angela lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. One thought would not leave her mind. _Why did Loki want to know so much about her past; about her family? _She remembered all of the stories Scott had told her of the God of Mischief. About his troublesome and playful nature, how he was constantly talking his way in and out of trouble. But the thing that stuck in her mind the most was the thought that he was never happy. Nothing could ever satisfy him. She wondered what ill fate would become of her and her little brother once he had no more need for them.

Before she could think of anything else, her cell phone went off.

Rolling over, she picked it up and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Miss Cresley?" The voice was nervous. "We need you to come in right away."

Angela immediately sat up.

"What is it? What's going on?"

"We need everyone we can get. It's a little girl from downtown. She's been shot."

Angela bolted up the stairs and ran to her room.

"Alright, I'll be there fast as I can."

"Good. Room four twenty-seven."

"Got it."

Angela hung up and tossed her phone on her bed. Panic quickening her movements; she threw on a spare pair of blue scrubs she had intended to wash. Tying her hair up in a messy bun, she grabbed her purse and began to put on her shoes.

Loki hadn't been able to sleep either. Hearing the nervous shuffling of feet outside his door, he sat up. Casting a quick glance at Scott to be sure he was asleep, he rose and started towards the door. Unlocking it, he stepped outside into the hallway, his eyes immediately drawn to the ray of golden light that flowed from Angela's room. He could hear her rummaging about, mumbling to herself. Finally, she emerged from her room, dressed in a pair of simple blue pants and a matching shirt. Her hair was pinned up messily, showing off her delicate jaw line and elegantly shaped neck. She was obviously in a rush to go somewhere.

Angela dug her badge out of her purse and clipped it onto the edge of her shirt. Looking up, she was greeted with the unexpected sight of a shirtless God of Mischief staring at her. Worry crossed her face.

"I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to wake you."

Knowing that time was of the essence, she started towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Loki's voice was deceptively calm. He knew very well that letting her out of the house was a bad idea. Though any kind of help she might bring wouldn't be a threat, he wanted to keep a low profile.

"I have to go help with an injured patient in the ER. I will be back in a few hours."

She brushed past him, not waiting for permission to leave. She was nervous, leaving her brother alone, but someone's life was hanging in the balance. She had to help in any way she could. That was someone's child. She had to help.

Room four twenty-seven was bustling with activity by the time Angela arrived. She desperately looked around for the doctor. Mr. Morano found her first.

"Oh good, you're here."Said a relieved voice behind her.

Angela spun around to see Dr. Morano busily flicking through a series of manila folders. Pulling one of them out, he held it out to her.

"She needs a CT scan; I fear that there may be damage to her brain from getting knocked around. Would you please take this to Jeremy and accompany the girl to the scanning room? She's obviously rather shaken up right now. You're good with people, just try to calm her down and make her comfortable. Until I know the extent of the damage, I'm afraid that's all we can do."

Angela nodded quickly and took the folder, striding quickly over to the patients room.

The girl lay motionless in her bed, a swarm of doctors and nurses bustling about her. The entire right side of her body was encased in bandages. Angela bit back tears. The poor girl looked no older than eleven or twelve years old; just about Scott's age.

"Alright guys, doctor Morano needs a CT scan, let's get her ready to move."

A few of the nurses and doctors slowly shuffled out of the crowded room while the remainder prepared her IVs for transport. Angela glanced down to the manila folder she had clutched in her now sweaty hand.

Jessica.

So that was the little girl's name, Jessica. Slowly, Angela crept closer to the little girl's bedside until she was by her head.

"Hey Jessica, my name is Angela. I'm here to help you."

The little girl fidgeted a moment, but didn't open her eyes.

"We're gonna make sure that you feel better, okay?"

Angela saw the little girl reach out with her bandaged hand and, gently, Angela held it. Jessica relaxed and squeezed Angela's hand tight.

"We ready to move her?"

"Yep, let's do it."

Even on the short trip down the hall to the scanning room, Jessica refused to let go of Angela's hand. The scanning technician hastily pulled open the door to allow the gurney through. He turned to Angela.

"Hey Jeremy." She said.

"Hey, so what we dealing with here?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. Doctor Morano said there may be internal bleeding or head trauma, but he needs a thorough scan before he can tell."

"Alright, let's go."

Jeremy positioned the gurney under the scanner, and turned his attention to his computer screen. The sound of a machine whirring above her head frightened Jessica. She yelped out some sort of inaudible plea and shifted nervously where she lay. Angela gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm right here."

Jessica relaxed back down against the sheets, still obviously uneasy. Angela cast a glance over her shoulder. Jeremy watched his computer screen a moment, then looked up and nodded.

"Ready."

Angela turned back towards Jessica.

"Okay, just close your eyes and relax. It's not going to hurt at all, I promise."

Slowly, Jessica did as she was told, and closed her eyes. Angela watched her. She was so young, so innocent. It tore at Angela's heart that she should go through something so terrible. As if bullet through the shoulder wasn't enough, her assailant had obviously beaten her as well. Anger surged through Angela, quickly followed by grief. _Why would someone do this? Why?!_ Wasn't there enough pain in the world already? Yet someone felt obligated to completely ruin the life of an innocent child.

"Oh my…" Jeremy's voice was quiet.

Angela whipped around.

"What is it?"

"She's got internal bleeding… we need to act fast."

"Go get doctor Morano! Send in Michael and Sarah, we need to get her back into her room!"

Jeremy scrambled around nervously, tossing some papers back into the manila file Angela had given him, and bolted out the door. Seconds later, the two nurses who had been waiting outside bustled in. Together, the three of them brought the gurney back to the original room. Dr. Morano was waiting with two surgeons on either side of him. Angela was somewhat reluctant to leave, but she knew very well she would only be in the way. Softly, she pulled her hand away from Jessica's. The little girl cried out, but Angela was already being pushed out of the way by one of the surgeons.

Angela did not move for nearly half an hour. Then, finally, Dr. Morano stepped out of the room, removing his surgical gloves. Angela looked at him nervously, and he shook his head.

The still, lifeless corpse of Jessica lay eerily still on the gurney. The guilt that Angela felt crushed her. No, this wasn't the first patient she'd lost, but it was the first child. She strode slowly to the bedside and rested her hand on Jessica's cold one. Tears bit at her eyes, and she wept. This child hadn't deserved to die. An innocent child… just like Scott. That was what killed her the most.

Scott, she had to see him… she needed to hold him right now. What if Loki had taken him while she was away? What if she came home and they were both gone? Or what if the God of Mischief had decided he no longer needed him… oh, no. She had to get home.

Spinning around, she exited Jessica's room and grabbed her purse. She hastily said her goodbyes and got in her car, hoping, praying… that Scott would still be there when she got home.

Her cold fingers could hardly fit the key into the lock. Finally, she burst through the front door. Slamming it shut behind her, she bolted up the stairs and ran towards Loki's room.

Loki had heard Angela return from where he lounged on the couch. The God of Mischief had lit a cheery fire and was manipulating the flames to create images. First a horse and rider, working together to hunt down a buck. The next, a young couple dancing. Then, two brothers playing together. Loki watched as the two tiny figures leapt and danced through the flames, battling against each other with wooden training weapons. He could almost hear the laughter when Angela had dashed through the front door.

The image in the fire vanished and Loki sat up. He heard the heavy footsteps and Angela rushed up the stairs and ran towards his room. He doubted the pair would attempt escape, but refused to offer them the chance. Rising, the God of Mischief followed Angela upstairs.

He found her collapsed on the ground by her brother, gently cradling his sleeping form on her arms, tears streaming down her face.

Angela was grateful Scott was asleep. She would have hated for him to see her like this. Relief washed over her and her violent shudders slowly turned to soft sobs.

"I love you Scott. Oh, I love you so much."

She ran a hand through his spiky hair, gently rocking him back and forth.

Loki watched silently as Angela held her little brother in her arms. She was shaking horribly and her hair had partially fallen out of its previous shape. Her strange wardrobe was wrinkled and creased from movement, and for some reason the scent of death was heavy on her.

Angela, not wanting to wake Scott, reluctantly let him go and lay him gently back down next to Charlie. She pet the dog on his head before rising shakily to her feet. She paused a moment when she noticed Loki standing in the doorway, but then proceeded past him, wiping tears from her face.

Once safely in her room, Angela changed into a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, then began to reposition her hair on her head. Guilt still weighed heavy on her conscience, but some part of her knew there was nothing more she could have done for Jessica. Every child deserves chance at life… why do some feel the need to snuff it out? Knowing very well she wouldn't be able to sleep, Angela grabbed a random book off of her shelf and started downstairs.

She found Loki reclining on the loveseat, watching the fire.

"Couldn't sleep either, eh?" He said without turning to her.

Angela scoffed to herself.

"Not after a night like this."

"Oh? What kind of a night is this exactly?"

Right… Loki obviously didn't know where she had gone or why.

"Nothing… never mind. I, I don't want to talk about it."

"What? Embarrassed?"

Loki watched as two mounted Asgardians fought each other in the bright flames.

"No." Said Angela. "Sad."

One of the Asgardians fell to a swift blow from the other, and the figures vanished.

"Well that's more than obvious," Loki said mockingly "Figured you would drown the boy with your tears."

Angela straightened up and turned around to face him.

"Tears of sadness and joy are not the same."

Loki's eyes flicked towards her a moment, then returned to the fire. A young woman appeared in the flames. She held a small girl in her arms.

"So why is this such a miserable night for you? You seem to say that your tears for your brother were not tears of pain."

The young woman in the fire set the child down and knelt in front of her.

"They were not. Those were tears of joy, thankfulness. That he was still alive."

Angela choked up and turned her back on the God of Mischief. Loki watched as the flames suddenly engulfed the young girl, leaving the figure of the woman alone on her knees, crying out in despair. _So, someone had died,_ Loki collected. _Not a member of this family, but someone who had reminded her of her little brother._

"Not that you would understand the difference anyhow."

The fire spluttered and coughed, and Loki sat up.

"Oh? Why do you say that?" He asked curiously.

Angela, still with her back turned to Loki, replied,

"You obviously don't consider emotions important. You sneak into a random house; threaten to abuse an innocent child…" She found the lump in her throat. "If you considered emotions important, you wouldn't be able to do something like that. You wouldn't be able to hurt or kill someone. Because, inside you know… that person, they represent so much more than just one life. They represent their parent's lives; their mothers, their fathers, their sisters and brothers. You take one life out of the family, and the family is broken. To have that kind of guilt hanging over you the rest of your life, it would kill you. So instead, you lock away your emotions, and choose not to feel anything."

Loki chuckled to himself. Something in him admired this girl's bravery, but everything else in him saw her little speech for the emotional plea it was.

"Sentiment." He hissed mockingly. "A dreadful thing. Claims to create the strongest bonds, but yet, they can be so easily severed. Capable of turning the even the greatest warriors into soft-hearted, whimpering children, it corrupts the brave heart and taunts it into chasing after worthless dreams. Love… it is for children."

Angela turned to see him staring directly at her, elbows resting on his knees.

"Being a child isn't a bad thing… being blissfully ignorant of what reality holds, being innocent. I think at times we all wish for that, to be able to trade in our guilt for innocence, just to feel that bliss one more time…"

Although Loki laughed and shook his head at her, inside a battle was raging. Some part of him had heard what she said, and he wondered if maybe, just maybe, love wasn't only for children.


	3. Darkness

It was a full moon tonight. The God of Mischief lay awake, his glittering eyes roaming lazily over the dark room. The fire had died down some time ago, leaving now only a few dull red ashes glowing in the hearth.

Despite her original statement, Angela had eventually fallen asleep on the couch. Her book lay just out of reach on the floor beneath her limp hand which hung lazily over the edge of the couch. She was curled up almost like a child with her knees tucked up against her chest. Her left hand rested under her cheek and her fingers barely touched her lips. She moaned quietly while she slept, fidgeting slightly every now and then.

Loki took his gaze from Angela and looked back out the window. The bright, silvery light that shone from the moon drowned out the surrounding stars, making the night sky appear pitch black. Funny how one thing that brings so much light, also has the potential to wipe out any other light that surrounds it. A cruel reality, perhaps. The trickster sighed as he contemplated this sad thought. Then, slowly, he stood to his full height and strode silently over towards the sliding glass door. Rolling hills and green vines, all bathed in silver moonlight, stretched out before him. Though he had been at the Cresley estate for some time now, Loki had never paused like this to really absorb the beauty of his surroundings.

Opening the door quietly, the God of Mischief slipped outside into the chilling night air.

Pacing quietly along the long covered porch that ran around the outside of the house, Loki admired his environment. While vastly different from Asgard, this place was just as pleasing to his eye. The big bronze-brown mansion sat on the crest of the hill, overlooking acres of emerald green vines which were neatly planted in long, unbroken rows. The house itself seemed to radiate some kind of warmth, a sort of welcome that Loki hadn't noticed before. He suddenly realized how much he enjoyed staying here. He enjoyed the soft, comfortable bed he had been allowed to sleep in. He enjoyed the large, open living space with the cheery fire that roared in the hearth. It was strangely similar to Asgard, yet lacked the pomp and show. It lacked the arrogance of the Asgardians that was so reflected in their architecture. Mischief liked this house, he didn't want to leave.

Angela lay curled up on the couch. In the dark corridors of her mind, she was dreaming. She moaned quietly as images flashed through her subconscious. She was lost. Or was she? She didn't recognize anything around her, yet for some reason, she felt safe. Her surroundings were dark, shadows really. Shadows of what appeared to be a city. The sky above her was filled with bright stars and clouds of red and gold. She felt the cool sensation of silk against her warm skin. Looking down, she realized she wore a beautiful, slivery silk dress that fell off her shoulders and flowed freely behind her. Her chocolate brown hair was loose in the wind, sliding over her shoulders and down her back.

"What is this place?"

Her own voice seemed alien and distant.

"Where am I?"

She barely made out the shimmering image of a man in front of her. She felt drawn to him, and took a step forward. However, her efforts achieved nothing, and her feet dug uselessly into the earth.

The man's body slowly seemed to solidify. Angela watched as golden armor gradually appeared on his person, a cape billowing about him. His elderly face radiated compassion and gentleness, and his white hair and beard seemed to emphasize his already fatherly nature. Angela felt his intense gaze, and suddenly guilt weighed heavy on her heart. Guilt she couldn't even interpret. Guilt of crimes past and of those yet to be, crimes that were not even her own. Hot tears stung her eyes and she wept bitterly. Angela shuddered violently as she felt her heart being mercilessly crushed under the horrible sensation of remorse and despair. Then, as suddenly as it had come upon her, it vanished, and she felt a pair of loving arms wrap protectively around her. A fatherly voice hushed her gently.

"It is not a crime to feel empathy."

Angela's violent tremors slowly turned to softer, occasional sobs, and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Do not be ashamed to weep. You cry because you have compassion. This is an honorable trait."

He took his arms from around her and tilted her face up so she looked at him.

"You have a kind heart and noble character. You always show love to others, and think of yourself last. It is because of this I now beg your help. I fear that my son will soon fall to darkness. He will allow his anger to rule him. Mischief has always been scolded and viewed as a menace. Perhaps if Mischief was loved, he would begin realize the truth. We love him more dearly than he will ever know, but he refuses to believe it. You have a gentle heart. I ask that, in spite of his cold and distant nature, you will show him love. I am begging you, please, save him."

"But... how can you expect that of me? Do you know how much pain and worry he has already caused me, caused my brother? Why on earth would I want to give him a chance to hurt us again?"

"I cannot force you in any way to show him kindness to him, and I know that in your mind, he does not deserve it. But I have seen your heart. You have the capacity to love others; I ask only that you will give him a chance. Until his brother brings him home, you are the only one who can protect him."

The sorrowful tone of the man's words made Angela hang her head in shame. Perhaps she really had been cold towards Loki… but then what right did he have to barge into their home and threaten her family? She vividly remembered finding him in the ditch, his cold body hanging limp within the confines of the vehicle. She remembered caring for him, watching his body slowly relax as she had wiped the blood and rainwater away from his face. He had seemed so innocent, just an unfortunate victim of everyday life. But then… perhaps he was. She didn't know his story. But what if, wherever he had come from, he had been a victim of life and all of its harsh realities? What if he just had nowhere to go?

Loki sensed a presence as he strolled along the outdoor porch. Something was here with him. He felt as if some crushing darkness was beginning to surround him. Misery over took him, and he felt as if every single thing he had done, every wrong he had ever committed, was suddenly being thrust anew upon him. He remembered his bargain with Laufey. He remembered Frigga's warm embrace when he had saved Odin's life, the last warmth he had felt in some time. He remembered the violent battle against his so-called brother, and the horrible shattering of the Bifrost. Every muscle in his body still ached from the horrible force of the explosion.

He remembered letting go.

The dark void had closed in around him as he plunged aimlessly through the stars. He has been so alone, so lost. He had pleaded for death then, practically begging Fate to crush his already broken heart, just to end the agony….

But now, here he was._ Alive._ He wondered what cruel future awaited him. After all, when everything you know and love is suddenly snatched away from you, what do you live for?

The horrible memories continued to haunt him, his head throbbing wildly. He slouched against the cold wall, still clasping his hands over his temple. This strange darkness still closed in on him, crushing his spirit. Loki shrank down beside the wall, his legs crumpled unnaturally beneath him. He moaned and rocked back and forth. It felt like someone, or something, was trying to get into his head; it was as if something wanted to poison his mind. A voice echoed through his mind. It was distant, unrecognizable and alien.

"_Why are you searching? Why are you looking for purpose? Why are you looking for love as if I am not enough? Don't you know that I will by your side wherever you fall, even in the dead of night, whenever you call? Just please don't fight these hands that are holding you. My hands are holding you"._

Anger overwhelmed Loki. He did not want sympathy. He wasn't a child! He knew what he was capable of, and he would not be controlled his emotions. Emotion brings weakness to even the strongest men.

"_Please don't fight these hands…"_

"Let go of me!"

Loki screamed at the top of his lungs. As suddenly as the strange, oppressing shame had come upon him, it vanished. His forehead was bathed in a cold sweat, and his hands trembled. Anger pulsed hot through his veins and a playful smile broke across Loki's face. He was the master of mind games; he would not allow himself to be outwitted. The strange voice in his head had tugged at his heart that moment, but he refused to allow himself to be dragged down under it. He refused to let himself to go back to the sad masquerade. He was no prince of Asgard, he never was. He was an abandoned, unwanted child. He was a monster; nothing Odin could say or do would ever be able to change that.

_Does the God of Mischief allow himself to be so easily cast out, so easily defeated?_

Loki inhaled sharply as these words came to him. The world around him began to fade, and suddenly he was no longer on the Cresley estate. He was on another world. A cold, empty world. The air around him was bitter and smothering. A cloaked, shadowy figure knelt with his back to the God of Mischief. Though the body was the shape of the man, Loki could tell, this creature before him was nothing human.

"_You seek to prove your worth, do you? To remind those who underestimate you of the power you possess?"_

Loki cocked his head and took a step forward, sending up little clouds of silver dust in the dim light. His sharp senses could feel the malice and cunning that seemed to emit from the strange creature. The figure stood, slowly turning around to face Loki. His head was covered by a dark hood, and his face obscured by some sort of bizarre mask. He bowed his head, though not to Loki. His action seemed to concern some sort of greater power that radiated over the landscape, a gesture to some being of authority that undoubtedly oversaw these lands.

"_But can you? Do you really have what it takes to make yourself known?"_

Loki's mischievous nature began to tingle inside of him. He enjoyed a good battle of wits; whittling words and devising new meanings.

"And what would you know of my capabilities?"

Loki saw the creature's humanoid mouth curve into a vicious smile.

"_Ah, we know of the God of Mischief… the silver tongued trickster. The prince of lies and great master of Magic. We know of your story. Your sad little imprisonment to the lies instilled in you by the Allfather."_

"You have the gift of insight. Tell me, what do you see that would urge you to speak to me?"

The creature stepped towards him.

"_You want Thunder's blood, you want the Allfather's throne, and you want vengeance. All of this can be achieved."_

"The Asgardians will not allow their king to be so easily defeated, nor would Thor be so easy a feat."

The creature stepped back.

"_You would defend Asgard? You would defend the ones who cast you out?"_

"I do not defend. I warn. I know the defenses and soldiers of Asgard. They are not so easily defeated. To challenge them, it is to beg defeat."

_"__Defeat."_The creature hissed. _"Defeat like your own? Is it not obvious that a master of Magic would be unable to defeat brute strength? You cannot fight metal with mind. Nor mind with metal. Your power was limited to your childish magic tricks and petty illusions."_

Loki glared at the creature, his jaw tightening.

"_Your power is little, but your potential great. Ancient knowledge surrounds you. You need only to reach out, and take it. You wish to avenge your past, to punish the Allfather for his sins? Prove yourself to us, and we can help you."_

Loki's eyes snapped open. The pain was gone. His entire body was sticky with cold sweat, and his hands trembled. He felt a warm, soft cloth against his shirtless chest and noticed he now had a thin blanket tossed over him. He sat up slowly, inhaling the fresh morning air. The sky was streaked with pink and gold as the sun had just begun to rise. A small plastic bottle filled with cool water sat on the ground by Loki's hand. Still shaking, he opened it and let the life-giving fluid to slip down his throat. The piercing cry of a raven sounded, and Loki looked up. The glossy black feathered bird gazed down at him from its perch in a nearby tree. It cocked its head at him, its shimmering eyes boring into his. Mumbling inaudibly to himself, Loki stood to his feet, aware that the bird was watching his every move. Picking up the blanket and folding it up, the God of Mischief turned to go inside. A swift shuffle of feathers alerted the trickster that the bird had come closer. Casting a glance over his shoulder, he saw the bird perched on the hand rail, still hopping towards him. Anger speeding his movements ten times over, Loki swung his hand out, narrowly clipping the bird in the chest with his fingers.

"Get away from me!" He screamed.

The bird hopped back a few paces and let out a shrill caw before flying away over the vineyards. Loki squinted into the sun light as the bird seemingly vanished. He wasn't sure what had motivated him to lash out so, or what had even caused him to feel so paranoid. In fact, he hardly remembered what had transpired during the night.

Angela was busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast. She heard Loki enter the house and turned to face him.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"What?" Said Loki, not completely hearing her.

"You were shivering when I found you outside; I thought you may have a fever. I hope that blanket was enough to keep you warm."

Loki paused, looking at her. Her thick hair was a mess, falling out in little clumps in front of her face and down her neck. She still wore the baggy sweatshirt and denim shorts she had slept in, but now she had a pair of pink house slippers on her feet. The look of concern on her face fascinated him. It was the same look she had on her face when she was worried about her brother. Was she really that worried about him? Of course not. She was still only worried about her brother. She was just trying to keep him happy in order to protect the boy.

"It was sufficient." He finally said and turned to go upstairs.

Angela let out a quiet sigh and returned to the stove to continue making breakfast.

Loki clutched the thin blanket he had folded up to his chest. For some reason, he liked the feeling of the warm cloth against his torso; it felt soothing against his cool skin. As he walked leisurely up the stairs, he met Scott. The boy had changed into a pair of sweat pants and a frumpy sweatshirt. His strawberry blond hair was messy and his grey eyes glittered in the morning light. The big, wolf-like dog sat lazily behind its owner, scratching gently at an itch behind its ear. Scott stared up at Loki silently, like a soldier awaiting orders. The God of Mischief sighed. Then, almost reluctantly, he stepped to the side and held out his arm in the direction of the kitchen.

"Go on."

The boy's face lit up and he ran downstairs as fast as his legs could carry him, Charlie hard on his heels.

"Angie!"

Angela spun around at the excited voice of her little brother and was greeted with the sight of him bounding down the stairs towards her, free from Loki's grasp. Joy and relief flooded through her and she rushed to him, sweeping her up in her arms and spinning him around. Fighting back her tears, Angela held his thin, frail body in her arms. Then, gently and rather unwillingly, she set him down.

"Well, are you hungry? Breakfast is almost ready."

"Oh, oh! Do we still have that really good strawberry thing?"

Angela laughed and, leaning down, pulled the breakfast pastry out of the warming drawer.

"Yes, I believe we have some leftover."

"Awesome!"

Angela laughed, this time more to herself. It was such an incredible relief to know that Scott was no longer in any immediate danger. It was a joy for her to hear his voice the way it usually was, kind and upbeat, rather than the high-pitched, frightened voice she had gotten so used to the past few days. Scott had coped remarkably well through the strange series of events. Angela was almost jealous.

Light footsteps from the staircase made both Scott and Angela aware of Loki's presence.

The trickster now wore his black leather tunic and overcoat, and his gold armor was polished and glistening. He paid no heed to the two of them but walked solemnly towards the window and stared blankly out over the vineyards.

Scott pulled himself up to sit on the counter and began pulling out plates and cups for the three of them. Angela was cutting the strawberry pastry into pieces when the phone rang. Reaching out with one hand, she answered it and tucked it between her shoulder and cheek.

"Hello?"

"_Hey Angela, it's mom!"_

"Oh hey mom!" Angela smiled and set down her knife so she could hold the phone with one hand.

"How are you and dad? Are you having a good time?"

"_Oh yes, everything is wonderful! The weather here is so nice. I think we should move to Hawaii… no more cold winters."_

Angela laughed.

"Have fun convincing dad of that."

"_Convincing me of what?"_ Her father's eccentric, playful voice came over the phone.

"Oh nothing, but I guess we are moving to Hawaii."

"_Oh, yeah right, has your mother been daydreaming again? I swear, she says that every single time we come here!"_

Angela laughed.

"Well hey, I am making breakfast for me and Scott right now, want to talk to him while he waits? He's right here."

"_Sure."_

"Alright, one second."

Angela took the phone from her ear and covered the mouthpiece.

"Don't mention him," She flicked her eyes towards Loki. "Okay?"

Scott nodded and happily took the phone into the other room. Angela then proceeded to finish cutting the pastry. Loki still stared out the window, watching the two ravens that seemed to be circling the house. Rolling his eyes, he decided not to let this bother him. Angela's voice brought him back to his senses.

"You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

He spun around, his intimidating silhouette emphasized by the golden rays of sunlight that flooded past him into the room.

"Come again?"

"You're not allergic to anything, right? Like, there are no foods you can't eat? I don't know… some people have them… they can't eat certain foods cause their bodies won't tolerate them."

Loki kind of snickered. He had never heard of such a thing. These mortals were such curious creatures, with all their imperfections.

"No, no. I have nothing like that."

"Alright, that's good."

Angela paused. Everything that had happened in the last few days, even in the last few hours, had taken a huge toll on here. Not all of it had quite sunken in yet.

"And thank you, by the way."

Loki tilted his head and took a half-step towards her.

"Whatever for?"

"For not hurting Scott. It… it means a lot to me that he is alright."

Loki's mischievous eyes grew sad a moment, and the jealousy he had felt earlier came creeping back. He did his best to put it out of his mind, and simply nodded at Angela, then returned to the window.

At that moment, Scott came back into the room.

"Okay, here she is." He held up the phone to Angela. She took it and put it to her ear.

"Yes?"

"_Well, just wanted to say our goodbyes. We will be flying out tomorrow night, should be home around ten-thirty."_

"Oh alright, awesome. Um, well, have a safe flight, and we will see you when you get home."

"_Thanks sweetie, take care of Scott until we get back, don't let him get into any trouble now."_

"Of course." Angela gave a half-hearted laugh. "Take care."

And she hung up.

"So… mom and dad are going to be home tomorrow night."

Though Angela pretended to be speaking to Scott, her eyes danced nervously on Loki. He nodded at her as if he understood.

"Come on, come on, it's getting cold!"

Scott urged Angela to sit down at the table. She slid a plate across the counter towards Loki, and then proceeded towards the kitchen table. As she passed him, he whispered.

"I will be gone by tomorrow morning. I trust you will tell no one of my presence."

And without waiting for a response, he picked up his plate of food and went outside.

Breakfast passed silently between Scott and Angela, being that both were exhausted from lack of sleep. Angela had been contemplating what Loki had told her, about not telling anyone he was here. The thought of calling for help hand not really occurred to her, but she suddenly realized that was because he had been dangling Scott over her head. Now that he was safe, what did she have to lose? Nothing. When he told her not to tell anyone, he must have known there was no incentive for her to do so.

He was just asking her not to.

After what seemed to Angela like ages, she finally convinced Scott to go upstairs and get some rest. Then, after washing off dishes and wiping down counters, she went outside to find Loki.

He sat silent in one of the patio chairs, staring blankly out over the hills. Angela smiled to herself as she watched him. He sat in the dull piece of wicker furniture as if it was a throne, elbows propped up on the armrests and his long legs stretched lazily out before him. Sensing Angela approaching him, he reached into his lap and retrieved his empty plate.

"I take it this is what you came for."

He spoke mockingly, as if he was addressing a servant. Angela rolled her eyes and took the plate from him, not allowing his mockery to bother her. A faint hum echoed in her ears, and she looked up to see a humming bird flitting about a nearby feeder. Angela smiled and shifted her weight to one leg, admiring the little creature. The little bird landed and hopped about a few paces, then took to the air again, hovering back and forth before landing at a different spot near the feeder.

"Interesting how you can be intrigued by such a simple, boring creature."

Mischief's silken voice taunted Angela, and she looked back over her shoulder at him. His deep, emerald eyes gazed into hers, causing her to suddenly feel weak.

"What do you mean?" She replied quietly. "It's one of the most beautiful things in the world."

Loki chuckled aloud at this, and Angela cocked her head at him.

"You can't see it?" She asked, almost in amazement.

"There is nothing to see, foolish girl. It is just a little grey bird."

"Well it's because it's in the shade that you see it like that."

At this Loki raised an eyebrow, his curiosity getting the better of him. Angela smiled at him.

"Watch."

She set down the plate quietly and knelt down. Taking a small round pebble from a nearby potted plant, she tossed it across the deck, letting it clank loudly against the wood. The bird immediately hopped and craned its head around, exposing its throat to sunlight.

Loki blinked unexpectedly as the bird's throat suddenly turned a garnet red.

The trickster stared blankly, watching in wonder the creature before him. Then, as the bird whipped it's head back around, the color vanished, and the bird was again dull grey.

"See?" Said Angela. "When it's in the shade, you can't see its true beauty. It has to be out in the light for the color to show. In the darkness, it becomes just another grey, boring bird."

Both Loki and Angela watched as the little bird slowly sipped from the feeder, and then flitted off into the cool morning air. Angela stood and picked up Loki's plate. Her quiet voice began to find its usual strength again.

"You would be surprised how many things are like that, how you have to look twice to see their beauty."

Loki sat back in his chair and sighed, contemplating her words. Angela watched him a moment, until the harsh caw of a raven snapped her back to reality. She shot a glance over her shoulder to see a big black raven perched on the handrail. It cawed loudly a second time, hopping towards her. Loki too saw the bird, but chose to ignore it, that was until he suddenly felt pressure on his left arm, and looked over to see a raven perched on the armrest of his chair. The birds lingered a moment, then abruptly flew up in unison, cawing loudly over the vineyards.

All of a sudden, memories of the previous night's dreams began to flood back through both Angela and Loki's mind. The trickster gritted his teeth as the contrasting voices began to plague his mind.

_I am by your side. You would admit defeat? Please don't fight these hands. The promise of a liar, what is that really worth? I am here whenever you call. Prove yourself. You are not alone._

Loki slumped forward in his chair, his hands clasped over his head.

At the same time, words echoed in Angela's head, causing her to sway and her eyelids to grow heavy.

_An innocent child. Don't you, of all people, understand this?_

Fighting off the horrible weakness that was beginning to seep through her veins, Angela cast another glance at Loki.

He seemed even weaker than she was. As if he was in some sort of pain that was beyond the physical. At this moment, he seemed vulnerable. He seemed broken and innocent, almost like a wounded child.

_You said so yourself_, the voice came again.

_Sometimes you have to look twice to see the beauty._


	4. More Than Mischief

The steady hum of a helicopter engine whirring above his head caused Coulson to look up. Dust rose around him as the blades of the helicopter stirred the cool evening air, and he stood rigidly to attention. Even before the aircraft was firmly on the ground, Fury was out and striding swiftly towards him, agent Hill hard on his heels.

"Agent Coulson, report."

Wiping his clammy hands dry on his pant legs, Coulson swallowed and stepped forward to meet Fury.

"Director Fury."

"Talk to me, Coulson. What's happened?"

"We haven't been able to collect any reliable data from the blood samples we took. The DNA doesn't even line up with our technology. And the debris," Phil glanced over his shoulder. "It's putting out some sort of… energy."

"Radiation?"

"No… it's not radiation. Nothing shows up on the scanners. But…"

"But… what? Coulson."

"Well…" Phil sighed. "The analysts, if they stand too close to it, if they study it for too long… well…."

"Spit it out already!" Agent Hill's impatience got the best of her. Coulson shot her a menacing look.

"If they study it for too long…?" Fury's voice was deceptively calm.

Coulson looked back at the Director. The pain and fear in his eyes made Fury even more anxious.

"If they're around it too long… they… well, they go insane."

Fury inhaled slowly.

"How?"

Coulson dropped his gaze to the ground momentarily, as if searching for an answer in the dust. Then, raising his head up, he turned around.

"This way."

The small series of glass buildings and metal scanning equipment that had been set up around the pile of debris seemed almost like a small city. Technicians and analysts milled about busily as they went about their task of deciphering the strange runes carved all over the glistening sheet of metal. An uncomfortable silence existed between Director Fury and agent Hill as they followed Phil to the detention unit. A quick nod from Coulson to the guards standing on either side of the entrance, and the three were permitted to quickly shuffle inside.

One of the S.H.I.E.L.D. analysts sat strapped to a chair in the center of the cell. The poor man was struggling against the restraints, shouting and howling at the top of his lungs. He had a sick, grotesque smile on his face, and his eyes shimmered with flecks of gold in the iris. The trio stared a moment, each contemplating the distressing situation.

"What's wrong with him?" Maria finally said. Coulson, slightly annoyed, replied,

"We aren't entirely sure."

"How did this come on, Coulson? What started it?"

Fury's harsh voice drew Phil's attention to him, and he turned to face the Director.

"A few hours ago, a few of the analysts began to complain of sudden migraines and dizzy spells. They were instructed to take a moment to come back around, but a couple of the technicians refused to leave and continued working. Three of them total remained as they were to study the debris. About an hour ago, they all, simultaneously, blacked out."

"All three of them, they just… fell over?"

Ignoring Maria's question, Phil continued.

"The other two are still unconscious. However, when this one woke up… he went mad. He started yelling something about the 'Knowledge of the Guardian' and said it was urgent he speak to Odin."

"Odin?" Fury asked.

"Yes."

Fury cast another glance at the technician that sat bound to the chair. His eyes seemed to be slowly losing their natural hue and gaining more and more of the strange gold color. The poor man tossed his head wildly, muttering some sort of inaudible jumble of words before wailing again. Pain tugged at Nick's heart to see another human in such agony, but he quickly suppressed it, telling himself there was nothing her could do. Turning his back on the man, he strode swiftly back outside, closely followed by Hill and Coulson.

"I want you to set up one hour or two hour shifts for the analysts, the longest amount of time they can work without getting those migraines. Once they begin to feel any sort of pain, remove them from the debris site and send in the next shift. If they refuse, detain them. Just keep them from going round the bend, whatever you have to do. I want to know what those markings mean and what this thing is."

"Yes sir."

Back in the Cresley home, Angela was busily remaking the guest bedroom, changing sheets and fluffing pillows.

"Hey, are we ever gonna finish our game?"

Angela smiled and turned to face her little brother.

"Sure, why don't you go set it up and I will be down in a few minutes."

He nodded happily and proceeded downstairs. Angela finished putting the bed back together and was placing the pillows back in order on the comforter when, as she picked up one of the cushions, felt something heavy. It didn't take her long to figure out something was stuffed into the pillow case. She reached her hand under the linen cover and clasped something cold. Pulling it out, she brought it up to her eye level to examine. It was a small, silver shard of polished metal, about four inches long and lethally sharp. A quick investigation of the other pillows found two more tucked within other pillowcases. _Interesting_, Angela thought to herself, _he's so paranoid he has to sleep with weapons tucked under the pillows._ She wondered what a man like him had to be afraid of.

Angela arranged the small knives neatly on the nightstand and went downstairs to join her brother.

"Were you silver or gold? I can't remember."

"I'm pretty sure I was gold."

"Okay." He said, rotating the board so the gold pieces were by her. She sat down and moved her pawn forward two squares, blocking off the middle area of the chess board. Scott jumped his knight out from behind the pawns and towards the edge of the board. The game continued on rather silently, each opponent trying to outsmart the other. Angela loved to play chess. She and her father used to play it all the time. She loved strategizing and planning ahead. But chess is only fun when you have a worthy opponent. Luckily, Scott loved chess just as much as his big sister, and proved to be quite a decent challenge. And, much to Angela's delight, he and his father had carried on the tradition of playing together on the weekends. In the end, experience with the game was the deciding factor, and Angela forced Scott into checkmate.

"Dang it! I almost had you there!" He voiced his disapproval, and Angela laughed,

"Win some, lose some."

"Yeah, yeah… whatever."

Angela laughed again, then she just happened to notice that Loki was back inside, lounging lazily in a nearby armchair. How long had he been there? She had never heard him come in.

"Oh, hey." Scott's voice brought her back to her senses. "Did we already send that one rental movie back, or do we still have it?"

"I don't know, which movie was it?"

"Treasure Planet."

"Oh that one… um, no I think we still have it, do you want to watch it?"

"Yeah, can we?"

"Sure, go turn on the TV; I will set the DVD player up."

Scott did as he was told, and Angela knelt down in front of the entertainment console to disconnect Scott's video game console and reconnect the DVD player. Loki was rather amused at all the trouble this woman went through to make her little brother happy. After putting in the movie and making sure that Scott was comfortable on the couch, she proceeded to put away the chess game and then headed to the kitchen to start on dinner. Pulling a pot up onto the stove and filling it with water, Angela dropped a bouillon cube into the water and began to bring the broth to a boil.

Suddenly, she felt a pair of piercing eyes on her and turned around.

Loki was leaning casually against the wall behind her, arms crossed and head tilted. He smiled at her, as if trying to conceal his laughter. Angela shrugged her shoulders and asked,

"What?"

Loki kind of chuckled at her.

"Oh, it's just all the trouble you go through taking care of the boy."

Angela cocked her head at him.

"It's no trouble. If you had the choice wouldn't you want to spend time with someone you love? And if there was something you could do for them to make them happy, wouldn't you do it?"

The trickster felt a lump in his throat. Why was it that everything this young woman said reminded him of home?

_Home? Home?_ A voice taunted him. _What home is there for you? Cast out, betrayed, completely defeated. Where do you have left to go?_

As if to drive in the words, his throat suddenly exploded into pain, and his breathe tightened.

Angela turned back to the stove and proceeded with making dinner as Loki fought to subdue the pain in his neck. It was almost unbearable. He inhaled sharply, trying desperately to get air past his tight throat. His breath became ragged, and Angela instinctively spun back around to see what the matter was. She saw Loki with his hand on his throat, mouth open, but barely breathing.

"Are you alright? Do you need water or something?"

Without waiting for a response, Angela grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with lukewarm water. She slid it somewhat cautiously across the counter towards him.

"Here, that might help if your throat is hurting. Just drink it slowly."

Gradually, Loki's tense body relaxed, and the horrible lump in his throat subsided. He rubbed his forehead slowly, trying to shake out all thoughts of home that seemed to come flooding back to him whenever Angela was around.

The gentle clinking of a glass bowl on the granite counter top made Loki once again aware of Angela's presence once again. She pushed a bowl full of steaming soup toward him.

"Here," She said with a sort of half-smile on her face. "Careful though, it's hot."

Angela went back over to the stove and ladled out a serving into another bowl, taking it to Scott. Then, she came back into the kitchen and retrieved her own. Loki eyed the soup curiously. Though he was hungry, he didn't really have an appetite. But he knew better than to refuse to eat. So, almost reluctantly, he picked up his spoon and began to eat.

"Jeremy!" Doctor Morano's voice came from down the hall.

"Could you do me a favor and double check if I locked my file cabinet?"

"Sure thing."

"Thank you, have a good one alright?"

"You too, drive safe."

"Good night."

Jeremy rubbed his eyes sleepily as he dug his keys out of his pocket. It had been a long day, and now all he really wanted was to get back to his apartment and get some rest. After double checking file cabinets and shutting off hallway lights, Jeremy slipped his jacket on and headed out to his car.

The crisp night air bit at his cheeks and he quickened his pace through the parking lot. Finally safe in his vehicle, he fit the key in the ignition and switched on the headlights before putting the car in reverse.

Suddenly, he noticed something reflecting back at him from the darkness. Taking a small LED flashlight out of the center console, he got back out of his car and went to observe the strange reflective object.

It was a piece of bronze gold metal about three feet long and two feet wide. It was imbedded deep into the earth, surrounded by a peculiar insignia that seemed to be almost burned into the dirt. The golden surface of the metal had bizarre carvings etched into its exterior. Jeremy ran the flashlight over the piece of debris a few times, drying to somehow make sense of the engravings. Though he stood for some time, Jeremy somehow lost track of time, and he felt as if it was only a few minutes. Then, feeling a sudden pain in his head and momentarily losing his balance, he decided it was best he leave. After pulling out his phone and snapping a quick photo of the metal shard, he stumbled his way back to his car and continued on his way home, his headache growing steadily worse.

The light, quick footsteps of the Allfather back and forth through his bedchamber echoed quietly through the hallway. Frigga slowly stepped toward him, holding out a hand.

"Odin."

Her voice was soft and sad. Odin's tense shoulders relaxed as he turned to face her. His face softened, and he took her hand, pulling her towards him.

"Anything?" She asked.

"Not a word yet." He said with a sigh.

Frigga nodded and turned her head down as she traced her silken fingers down Odin's battle-calloused hands. Suddenly, she heard the soft caw of a raven. Craning her neck upward, she said,

"Did you hear that?"

"Hush."

Odin's eyes flicked up towards the ceiling, and slowly, as the cawing grew louder; Hugin and Munin materialized out of the darkness and began to descend towards their master. Odin strode quickly up to them, and the ravens landed gently on his shoulders, bowing their feathered heads in respect. Whispers echoed through Odin's mind; a jumbled steam of images and sounds. In a matter of moments, his superior intellect had sorted out the messages, and the birds flew from his shoulders, returning to their perches.

"How is he?"

"His anger grows. Even now, as I reach out to him, he… resists. He does not want to accept me."

Frigga lowered her head and wrung her hands together in frustration.

"And what of the girl?"

"She… doubts."

"Well, wouldn't you?"

Odin eyed her curiously, not understanding her words.

"What I mean is… she knows next to nothing about Loki. Perhaps if she knew…"

"Knew what?" He cut her off. "All of his previous transgressions?"

"Our son lived a life here of more than mischief and mayhem. If she knew him beyond that…"

Frigga's voice trailed off as she felt a lump form in her throat. She missed her son terribly. All she wanted was to have him here with her, to hold him once again in her arms and hear his soft, measured breath in her ear. Was she the only one who remembered him for his virtues… not his faults?

Angela switched off the kitchen light before making her way upstairs. Loki was asleep on the couch, arms crossed gently over his torso. He had assured Angela he would be gone by morning, and for some insane reason, she decided to trust him. So, letting her worry and anxiety go, she headed up to her room for some much needed rest.

As soon as Angela curled up under the covers, she was asleep.

This time, another dream came to her. She was in the same strange city she recalled from her last dream, only this time, it seemed… brighter. She could hear two voices in the distance. They were the voices of children. Two small boys seemed to materialize out of the shadows. Though she could not make out their faces, they both seemed horribly familiar to her. One had golden hair and tan skin. He seemed healthy and energetic. The other, however, was just the opposite. His skin was pale, his hair deep charcoal black, and he was thin and frail. They seemed to be playing around together. Both carried shields and wooden swords, which they swung around more for display than to attack each other. As the pair's laughter grew louder, their battle grew more violent. Soon, the laughter became screams, and the boys became men.

"_I never wanted the throne!"_ A raspy voice echoed through her head. _"I only ever wanted to be your equal."_

As Angela watched the battle, she noticed one of the men's' skin seemed to flicker from blue to ivory, and his eyes would occasionally glow a brutal red.

"_This is madness!"_

Another voice rang through her head.

"_Is it madness? Is it?"_

The pair battled furiously on. Around them, the city itself seemed to be crumbling, disintegrating; as if the pair's desperate battle was ripping the civilization apart. An evil, ear-splitting cackle rent the air, and Angela saw the man with blue skin standing above the other. Before he could strike however, the man that lay beneath him shot his arm out, releasing a bolt of raw power that flung the other man back.

All of a sudden, for some reason, Angela knew she had to stop this.

"Stop it!" She screamed and ran towards the two men, but they seemed to only grow further away as she did. She saw the man with gold hair kneel down and press something against the other's chest.

Suddenly, her lungs were crushed, and she fell. She screamed as she felt the air getting slowly pushed out of her, and her ribs cracked under the weight. When she thought the pain would kill her, it vanished, and she felt as if she was falling.

"_I'm not your brother, I never was."_

Angela sat bolt upright in her bed, bathed in a cold sweat. She glanced at the clock. Two thirty in the morning.

Angela heard the sound of shuffling and nervous footsteps coming from downstairs, and glass shattered.

Cracking open her door, she quickly and silently crept downstairs and poked her head around the corner, glancing into the living room.

"Get back!"

Angela felt herself get suddenly slammed back as Loki tackled her to the ground. He pulled her close, shielding her body with his as shards of glass rained down on them.

Moving with the agility of a cat, Loki rolled away from Angela and leapt upright. Swinging his arm out wide, the trickster was able to catch the intruder in the throat with his blade.

Angela, terrified, looked up from where she lay on the ground.

A middle aged man with shaggy brown hair and strange, golden eyes stood mystified, a shiny silver blade protruding from his bloody throat.

"This is all your fault." The man gurgled. Then, his last breath escaped him, and he fell.

Angela squeaked in fear before clapping a hand over her mouth. Loki looked over to see her curled up on the floor, eyes wide with fright.

Leaning over, Loki pulled his blade out of the man's throat before putting his hand on the back of the corpse's neck. Slowly, it crumbled and vanished.

Then, almost casually, Mischief strode back over the shattered sliding glass door. He tapped the glass that was still intact; it rippled like water at his touch. Then, with a wave of his hand, the shards of glass found their way back into place, and the door was repaired.

Loki ran his tongue over his lips to moisten them and tasted blood. Pressing a finger to his mouth, he found his bottom lip had been cut open, most likely from a stray piece of glass.

Getting shakily to her feet, Angela looked over to see Loki wiping blood away from his mouth.

"Oh my—are you alright?"

Though she tried to disguise her fear, Angela's voice gave it away. She crept slowly towards Loki, hoping her sympathy would not anger him. He simply nodded.

"I'm fine."

Angela saw the trail of blood that ran down his hand from his lip. Her habitual instinct took over, and she took Loki's arm, leading him towards the couch.

"No, you are not. Now sit down and let me have a look."

Loki rolled his eyes but did as instructed. Angela returned moments later with a first aid kit. Opening it, she pulled out a cotton pad and disinfectant. Kneeling, she put one hand under Loki's chin; holding the cotton pad up to his lip.

"This might sting a little bit, okay?"

Angela's voice was soft as she spoke. Call it a force of habit. It was normal for Angela to soften her voice when treating patients, being that, most often, her patients were children.

Secretly, Loki liked it when Angela spoke gently, it reminded him of his mother when she used to comfort him. Loki saw the same care and devotion in this young woman that he had at one point felt from Frigga.

After cleaning the wound, Angela did her best to stem the flow of blood. Luckily the cut was not deep, and the bleeding soon ceased.

"Give me your hand." She said and she held out her own. Loki did as he was told, and Angela wiped the dried blood off of his pale fingers.

"There." She said and released his hand. Standing, Angela packed the first aid kit back up and proceeded to return it to its rightful place. Loki watched her as she went down her hall.

Her brown hair slipped over her shoulders like smoke and her hips rocked back and forth gently as she walked. He found himself wishing she did not soon exit his life. The next moment, he turned away wondering if he had lost his mind completely. A sudden feeling of sweet warmth seeped into his veins, and a gentle voice echoed through his mind.

_Surrender can be stronger._ Loki grimaced and shook his head, but the voice continued. _You don't need to be the hero tonight. We all want love, we all want honor. Are you willing to pay the asking price?_

Before he could even try to make sense of the words that were now fading in his ears, Angela returned, and yet again, Loki watched her. This time, he noticed something about her he hadn't before.

Angela was weak. Her legs buckled slightly every time she took a step, and her shoulders drooped as if she carried a heavy burden. She was ill. He immediately knew it was his presence here that made her so; it was a strain on her. Then, as she reached up to tuck her hair back behind her ear, Loki saw her scars.

How he hadn't noticed them before escaped him. With his keen vision the faded pink scars stood out like flames against Angela's tan skin. A quick inspection revealed the marks covered both of her lower arms.

"Oh." Angela's soft, sleepy voice brought him back to reality. "I just remembered…"

Angela went upstairs, returning moments later with the three small blades in her hand.

"Here, I found these." She said and held them out to him. Loki approached her slowly, surveying her face. Again, he noticed things he hadn't before. Like the freckle just beneath her left ear, or the faint rim of green that ran around her blue eyes. Then, looking down, he reached out cautiously and took his silver knives from her hand. Once more, he saw the scars. It troubled him that such injury should befall such a beautiful creature. Anger swiftly followed his distress, but he quickly attempted to suppress his emotions. Why should he care? She was no concern of his.

But nonetheless, the thought of Angela's arms getting so violently sliced open haunted him.

_Of what concern is she to you? You are above this. Or does the God of Mischief stoop to dry the tears of a human?_

Loki grunted. All these voices in his head, taunting him… he hated it. Were they deceiving him? Were they trying to help? He didn't know. But he knew that his stay at the Cresley home was over. Though part of him wanted desperately to stay, he knew he had to leave. He had to get out.


	5. Comprehension

James shuffled nervously about his office. His phone had been ringing off the hook the past few days. Suicides, kidnappings, murders—every imaginable crime had in some way been committed this week. He knew his responsibility as the Chief of Police, but this… this was overwhelming.

"James!"

An annoyed voice called from the hallway. Danielle, one of the detectives he had called in on a case, opened his door. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun, her brown eyes hazed over from both stress and a lack of sleep.

"Didn't you hear me calling you?"

James shook his head and ran his hand over his buzz cut hair.

"I'm… sorry. What is it?"

"Thomas needs you; he says he may have a hit on one of the homicide cases."

Inhaling sharply, James strode quickly past Danielle and down the hallway. Thomas stood at his desk, flipping through a folder. Hearing James' characteristically heavy footsteps, he looked up.

"What have we got?"

Thomas continued flipping through his file while he spoke. "Well… remember that shooting downtown the other day? You know, the little girl… the one that passed away after reaching the hospital?"

"I remember."

"Well, it seems that perhaps the same attacker is also the source of the recent kidnapping."

"Which one?"

"Um… the teenage boy, went missing at around midnight two nights ago. See, we found DNA that matched the blood from our initial investigation at the other house. We're pretty sure the person who kidnapped him is the same man that shot the little girl."

"Can we get a name on this guy?"

"Not really. Based on the evidence, we think it's a family member – perhaps the dad or maybe a brother—to the girl. But our relative connections research showed that both the father and the brother went missing more than two months ago."

"What about the mother?"

"Mother…" Thomas' voice trailed off and he flipped through the file a moment.

"Ah, here we go… the mother is apparently still alive and well, but the parents divorced three years ago. She lives out of state."

James nodded silently, his hand over his mouth.

"Look, I know it's not much. But at least it's something." Thomas' voice was far from confident. "I mean, obviously this guy is making repetitive attacks. If we can recognize a pattern, we may be able to catch him."

"Recognize a pattern, hmm? And how many murders will that take?"

James' resentful tone struck fear into Thomas, and he averted his eyes from his cold gaze.

"Alright... I'll, um; I'll dig around some more and see what I can find."

"Better."

James turned swiftly on his heel and strode back towards his office. Danielle heard the phone ring yet again, and, almost reluctantly, she answered it.

"Yes?" Danielle listened patiently to the anxious voice on the other end of the phone. "One moment please. James, it's for you.

He grimaced and shook his head. Danielle brought the phone back to her ear.

"I'm sorry; he's not available at the moment."

The worried voice continued, and again Danielle dropped the phone and called after James.

"He says it's quite urgent, someone from the downtown shopping center."

Letting out an annoyed sigh and whirling back around, James took the phone.

"Yes?"

Danielle sat patiently as James listened to the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Alright, thank you, we'll be right there."

He hung up and strode swiftly back towards his office.

"Hey!" Danielle called after him. "What's up?"

James returned moments later with his gun and badge.

"Danielle, with me. Store robbery downtown, looks like surveillance tapes may have caught a glimpse of the attacker."

"So…?" She said, following him out the door into the parking lot.

"Well, the robber seems to match the description of the man that shot the little girl."

Angela opened her eyes slowly. Everything around her was fuzzy. Had she passed out? She wasn't sure. She rolled over in her bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Funny… wonder how she got here. She didn't remember going back upstairs.

A strange whispering sensation in her ear caused her to moan. A distant, fatherly voice rang through her cloudy mind.

"_Not all mischief is shrouded in secrecy."_

What? Was she still asleep? Angela pinched herself. Sure enough, she was awake. Rising to her feet, she shook her head, the voice echoing off into her subconscious. She could feel a tiny headache coming on, and decided she best go take some medicine to offset it before it got any worse.

She cast a glance at her alarm clock.

Eleven-twenty A.M.

She had really slept that late? That wasn't like her.

Passing Scott's room, she saw him still in bed, asleep, Charlie lounging at the foot of his bead. Slowly, she proceeded to stumble downstairs and find her way into the kitchen. She filled a glass with water and successfully took her medicine, hoping to ward off her headache.

Then she noticed something.

Loki was gone.

At first she didn't really believe it. Maybe he was outside? Not knowing exactly what compelled her to do so; she opened the sliding glass door and poked her head outside, looking out over the porch and vineyards.

Mischief was nowhere to be found.

Well, he had said that he would be gone by morning… but, she hadn't really believed him…

Apparently, he had told the truth. He was gone.

Though by now the Cresley Mansion was well out of site, Loki had to fight every nerve in his body to keep from turning around and going back. He wasn't sure what drew him back to that house. Maybe it was the overwhelming safety that he found within its golden walls. Or maybe it was the fact that, whenever Angela was around, the voices in his head seemed to dissipate.

And now that he was on his own, the voices had returned in full force, taunting him. At first, he had heard two voices, both horribly familiar yet completely alien to him. Now, one seemed to drown out the other, and all he could hear were the horrible reminders of his weakness, his shortcomings. The things he knew he had to overcome. As he walked steadily along, the harsh voice called out to him.

"_You are above this feeble world. The first step is the greatest, the first lunge always the hardest. Ancient knowledge surrounds you…"_

Loki didn't even waste time trying to make sense of the words that floated in and out of his mind. He thought it strange… the voices only seemed to appear once he had been in the Cresley home, but now that he had left; they came on with even more strength than before. He had hoped that leaving the estate would cause the voices to subside, but the opposite proved true.

Having traded out his leather tunic and long coat for his original dark jeans and grey cardigan, he strolled slowly along the empty road. A few cars had passed him earlier in the morning, but now the road was unoccupied, allowing him to tread leisurely over the blacktop. The warmth of the sun was somewhat offset by the cool autumn air, but the back of his head and neck still felt somewhat warm.

Passing open fields and small houses, Mischief walked on, having absolutely no idea where he was going.

Suddenly, a bright flash nearly blinded him. Shielding his eyes and bowing his head, he realized some large sheet of bronze gold metal lay in a nearby field, reflecting the sunlight directly into his emerald green eyes.

Hopping easily over a short barbed wire fence, Loki crossed the field and made his way towards the object.

It was a piece of debris – that much was obvious. The edges were jagged and bent, the metal itself severely warped. Loki noticed the faint markings engraved into the metals surface and knelt down to get a closer look.

The ancient Asgardian text wound its way over the surface of the golden sheet. As Loki gazed at the characters embossed over the metal fragment, whispers began to ring through his head. He suddenly felt sick and lightheaded, and his immediate reaction was to back away from the scrap of metal, but a harsh voice jolted through his brain, causing his body to freeze.

"_Knowledge is a both a blessing and a curse, you must bear the weight to use the gift. Call out the ancient wisdom, force it submission, do not let your weak mind be defeated by physical pain!"_

Loki's eyes snapped open and again he looked at the signs. At once he felt his senses running wild. He could hear the footsteps of a person miles away, he could see beyond the stars, he could feel the burning heat of the sun, as if it was against his own skin. He yelled and clasped his hands over his head as the pain grew steadily worse.

Every noise, every emotion, every image, he could sense all of it. It bombarded his mind relentlessly. He fought every nerve in his body violently, trying desperately to keep himself from buckling under the strain. The ability to comprehend things that lay beyond the physical world dragged him down.

Finally, unable to fight back any longer, Loki fell limp in the grass.

Looking up, he could see the symbols engraved on the metal beginning to fade, and then he blacked out.

James was frantic. While investigating the security tapes at the mall, he had come across a horrible realization. Whoever the killer was, he wasn't working alone. The tapes had revealed a congregation of at least three people all surveying the area before the robbery; two men and one woman total. With more than one suspect to track down, the cases would be even more challenging to follow, much less prevent. Heavy footsteps and mumbling voices caused James to spin around.

A tall, resolute woman came striding quickly towards him. She had dark hair that was pulled back into a low bun and a Bluetooth clipped to her ear. She wore a deep navy blue and black uniform with a displayed eagle embossed on both shoulders. Something about her presence, the way she carried herself, one could tell that she was not one to be trifled with.

"I'm looking for James." She said sternly as she approached James.

"That's me… how can I help you?"

Shifting her weight to one leg, Maria opened a manila folder she held in her hands.

"I'm Agent Hill with S.H.I.E.L.D. I'm here to request any information regarding these metal debris fragments."

As she spoke, she took a photo from her folder and held it up for James to see. He eyes the curious shard of golden metal a moment, and then bit his lower lip in thought.

"Um… I think I may have had a few calls regarding something like that, why don't you come with me?"

Maria followed James into his office, watching as he scrounged around at an unorganized desk. Suddenly, he paused and looked up at Maria.

"Where did you say you were from? Why do you need this information?"

Agent Hill was somewhat taken aback, annoyed almost, but she didn't allow her face to show it.

"S.H.I.E.L.D." She repeated. "We work together with NASA on occasion. We need to be alerted if any of these metal pieces pop up in the area, as we fear they may be radioactive. So please, if you get a call on it, simply forward it to us."

She slid a business card with a phone number on it towards him.

"Also, if you have any information on paper currently, I'll take that as well. We want to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible."

Though part of James was reluctant and untrusting—he had never heard of this S.H.I.E.L.D. agency before, he didn't know if giving this woman the information she desired was a good idea—his yearning to have one less thing to put up with got the best of him, and he handed her the papers.

"We'll let you know if we hear anything on the matter."

"Thank you." Maria took the papers and stuffed them into her own file before spinning around and marching silently out of the office. James watched her carefully as she crossed the street and climbed into a waiting vehicle parked across the street. As he watched it drive off, he wondered if he had really made the right decision.

"Who was that?"

James looked over to see Danielle just outside of his office doorway, still in her long brown coat.

"Someone with NASA apparently, remember the call about the big metal shard that man found outside his house?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, apparently it's radioactive."

"Oh." Danielle pursed her lips. "Well, that's a problem."

James rolled his eyes. Sometimes Danielle didn't take her work seriously. She could make fun of just about anything. At times James appreciated her light-hearted attitude. But now, it just seemed inappropriate. James yawned.

"Hey, are you planning on making a coffee run anytime soon?"

"Um… I can. You want something?"

"Yeah, um… just get me something with caffeine in it, please."

"Will do."

After taking an order from Thomas, Danielle went out to the parking lot and climbed into her Jeep. Arriving at the shopping center, she decided to take the scenic route to the coffee shop through the book store.

Danielle strolled leisurely through the aisles of the book store, stopping occasionally to look at calendars or posters. She wasn't really into reading, but she loved to look at the works of the artists.

A sudden thud against her shoulder caused her to lose her balance.

"Hey!" She whirled around. A tall man probably in his forties with messy brown hair and dirty clothes backed away from her.

"I… I'm terribly sorry."

Without waiting for a response, he staggered off a little ways down the aisle. Danielle watched him a moment.

Her first reaction was to think he was homeless, what with his soiled clothes and oily hair. But she thought twice after seeing the thick golden band around his right ring finger. A quick inspection revealed he also had a decently nice watch about his wrist.

Danielle realized she was staring and quickly whipped her head back around. She waited for the man to move on to another aisle, but he didn't. He just seemed frozen, staring blankly at the ground. Then, out of her peripheral vision, Danielle saw the man put a hand on his stomach and grimace. He was obliviously in pain. His breath began to grow ragged and he hunched over.

"Sir…" Danielle faced him and took a step forward.

"Are you al—?"

A swift punch from the man knocked the air of out her. A woman screamed and chaos followed.

Danielle felt a pair of calloused hands close around her throat, and she was pulled violently upright, her feet inches off the ground.

"You! You're the one that's following me!"

The voice that echoed from the man's throat was evil and psychotic, and his eyes glowed a wicked gold. Danielle gasped and struggled for air, trying desperately to loosen the man's fingers from about her throat.

"What are you—?"

Her words were cut off yet again as her assailant shook her brutally. Danielle could feel her lungs burning, and her vision began to cloud over.

"You're one of the ones that keeps trying to stop me!"

The man flung Danielle to the ground, the impact sent pain shooting through the entire right side of her body, but she shook it off.

Using the momentum of the throw to her advantage, she rolled away from the mad man and managed to get to her knees. Pulling out her gun, she cocked it and held it up.

The man stopped in his tracks, his golden eyes fixed on the weapon. Danielle held her finger out against the side of the trigger. It took everything in her to keep herself from just outright shooting the man.

A nervous clerk poked his head out from behind the service counter.

"Stay where you are!" Danielle yelled, and the clerk froze.

The man with golden eyes stared intently at Danielle.

"You think you can stop me? I will find the answer… I will find the knowledge! I will—"

A shot went off, and the man's jaw went lip, blood trickling out of his mouth. He fell forward, dead.

Danielle looked up from the man's body to see James standing behind him, gun in hand. She stared at him, confused.

"Got a tip right as you left," He said. "Are you hurt?"

Danielle swallowed and shook her head, attempting to get to her feet. Her right leg exploded into pain, and she collapsed with a yell.

"Never mind then…" She said with a smirk. "I guess I am hurt."

James gave a half-hearted smile, kneeling down beside her.

"Alright, we'll get an ambulance for you. Just stay still."

It was some time before Loki could even gather the strength to open his eyes again. It was dark by then, the moon and stars had come out and now bathed the landscape in their silvery light.

Loki pulled himself upright, casting a nervous glance over the surface of the metal sheet before him. The markings were gone, and now the metal had begun to crumple and rust, its ill-fated journey through the heavens having finally caught up with it.

Loki stood shakily to his feet. A quiet snort behind him caused him to turn around.

A big, burly draft horse stood behind him. It sniffed the God of Mischief gently, its soft muzzle running over his shoulders. Loki smiled and reached a hand up, stroking the horse's muscular neck. Looking out over the field, he could see small lights flickering in the distance, homes. Then, his superior eyesight found the Cresley home.

Pain tugged at his heart. He could see Angela and Scott as they prepared a meal for their returning parents.

Even from miles away, the house seemed so inviting. Shaking his head, Loki turned swiftly and began to walk in the opposite direction. The big horse followed him, whinnying its disapproval. Reaching up, Loki put his hand on the horse's muzzle, hushing it gently.

The noise of whirring sirens and wails of misery reached Loki's sensitive ears, and in the back of his mind he could see the scene. A man lie dead, a woman injured, and a grieving widow held her weeping children.

Then, beyond them, he could see another shard of metal. The engravings still fresh, it called out to him, taunting him, whispering to him. Though he knew very well it would only cause him pain, he was determined to find the fragment. He had nothing else to do, there was nowhere for him to go, there was nothing except the next piece and the knowledge contained within it.

Swallowing hard, he fought back against his weak body, and set out to find the fragment.

"Think they will like it?"

"Of course they will, silly!"

Angela looped an arm around Scott's shoulders. He had begged her to let him cook dinner for their parents, and, knowing what he would prepare, she allowed him. Now, Scott leaned back against Angela, proudly surveying his work. Four steaming bowls, each filled with macaroni and cheese were set on the table.

The front door creaked steadily open, and a tired, sweet voice came from outside.

"Hello? We're home!"

"Mom!" Scott ran to his mother, tossing his arms about her neck. Sarah threw her arms about her son, pulling him close.

"Oh my, I've missed you so much! Did you and your sister have a good time?"

"Yeah, it was awesome!"

"Hey!" Mr. Cresley's characteristically playful voice came from outside.

"How you been buddy?"

"Dad!" Scott launched himself at his father. Sarah stood up and took Angela's hands in hers.

"Hey sweetheart, how are you?"

Angela kissed her mom on the cheek before wrapping her arms around her.

"I'm good, how was your flight?"

"Very nice actually, which is always refreshing."

"Hey girly!" Upon hearing her father's voice, Angela couldn't help but smile.

"Hey dad, how are you?"

Wrapping his strong arms around her, Robert picked her up, squeezing her tight.

"I'm great, what about you sweetie?"

"Might help if I could breath…"

Robert laughed and set her down, wiping her hair out of her face.

"Here! Come on, come on! Dinner is ready!"

Scott took his mother's hand and pulled her towards the kitchen. Robert followed happily. Angela turned and slipped her shoes on, then went outside to unload the luggage from the car. She pulled her mother's purse and her dad's briefcase out of the back seat and set them by the front door, then popped open the trunk.

"Nope! I don't think so sweetheart!"

Robert's voice suddenly came from behind her. He took Angela's arm and pulled her back, closing the trunk.

"Leave that to me, I'll do the unloading."

Putting his arm around her shoulders, they went back inside, joining Scott and Sarah in the living room. Robert set down his wife's purse and his briefcase on the table and brought Angela her bowl of macaroni.

"So, anything notable happen while we were gone?"

Angela shuffled nervously, but quickly suppressed her discomfort.

"Well," She said. "I finally beat Scott at a game of chess."

Conversation continued late into the night; until Angela finally announced that it was high time she pack up her things at go back to her apartment. Clearing dishes from the living room and rinsing them off in the sink, Angela headed upstairs to finish packing her things.

She hadn't been upstairs very long when a soft knock sounded on her door.

"Yes?" She said. "Come on in."

Her father poked his head inside before shuffling into her room.

"Hey, why don't you stay one more night? It's the weekend now anyway."

Angela paused, and then continued to pack her things.

"No… I don't know…"

"Oh, come on Angie… I can tell when you aren't feeling well. You need to rest before going back to work and getting back into the swing of things. If you won't stay for you, stay for me."

Angela sighed.

"Okay… but one night only."

Robert smiled and pulled his daughter into his arms.

"Oh hey, I just remembered… I got you something."

"What, no… dad you didn't have to get me anything…"

"Shut up. I got you something, and you're going to like it."

Angela laughed.

"Okay then…"

Robert reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Opening it, he pulled out a pair of delicate glass and shell earrings. Each earring had a tiny carving of a swallow done in gold and beads made of shell hanging beneath them. He held them out to her.

"Oh my—"

Angela took them in her hands.

"They're beautiful."

"Put them on."

Angela took off the pair of silver studs she had in and slipped the golden ones in. Turning back around to her father, she looked up at him. He smiled at her.

"Gorgeous."

Angela smiled back. She loved her dad so much. She was so happy to have him back home safely, and though she would never admit it, she was happy that she would be staying one more night.


	6. Fragile

Loki stumbled aimlessly along the side of the road. In the early morning light, he could see the small town center miles ahead of him preparing for the coming day. Small shops opened doors and flicked on lights while employees cleared abandoned shopping carts from vacant parking lots.

Mischief had seen many things in the night. As his mind sought to embrace the knowledge contained within the debris, his soul somehow seemed to defy it, as if it knew it was a curse rather than a blessing. True, with the knowledge came sorrow. Mischief had seen things he wished he hadn't. The failures and horrors of humans rang through his mind. He had seen a man slaughter his own wife; a child waiting patiently for a father that would never come home; a young girl who felt so alone she had taken her own life.

As the ghastly images flooded his intellect and danced behind his eyelids, he felt more and more angered.

He knew what it was like to be innocent. He knew what it was like to trust, to believe.

He knew what it was like to be betrayed. To be ruined. To be destroyed.

But he had built himself back up. Through whatever strange magic he had found the capability to see beyond this feeble world, into greater worlds.

But still, he felt as if… there was something greater – something lurking just beyond his reach – that could have an even greater impact.

He decided not to obsess over his hunch, and continued on his way.

The cold air nipped at his pale skin, causing him to will a black coat to materialize about his person. Pulling it about him, he buttoned it and proceeded down the sidewalk. A few people passed him on the street; workers hastily trying to make their shift.

Loki stared blankly ahead, having no set destination.

He began to feel a strange feeling slip over him, and suddenly felt claustrophobic, as if something was closing in on him. He writhed uncomfortably, and suddenly, the buildings around him began to crumple and blow away in a wind he couldn't feel. The brick and concrete buildings were soon replaced with open air and a black sky. Stars dotted the distance, and all around him the air was lukewarm and smothering.

"_You are learning quicker than expected, young one. Your gift for magic is no secret. But you have much to learn yet."_

The strange creature that he had seen before materialized, slithering in and out from behind stones that strewn the silvery landscape. He seemed stronger in a way, as if he had been empowered by some other force. He still bowed his head, but his shoulders were tense and held high.

Loki rolled his eyes. This creature spoke to him as if he were a lesser being. Loki knew in his own heart that he, a citizen of Asgard, trained and schooled by some of the greatest masters, was high above this hideous creature.

"_Have you forgotten?! You are no Asgardian! You never were! You are no less a monster than you perceive me us to be!"_

Loki cringed under these harsh words. Looking up, he saw the creature standing before him and jumped back.

A sickly, double thumbed rose to Loki's chin, but the God of Mischief kept his eyes on the creature.

A gentle tap of the creatures thumb to Loki's jaw caused his breath to freeze in his lungs. Gasping, he doubled over, desperately sucking air into his mouth. But it was to no avail. Loki sunk to his knees, his chest burning. A cold hand grasped the back of his head, and he felt his body go cold.

"You have much to learn, Frost Giant."

Loki watched in horror as his skin began to change from its humanoid pale color to its true, bestial blue.

"Do not test us."

Before Loki could respond, he felt himself falling and he was suddenly flung back into reality. He stood motionless on the sidewalk, staring blankly beyond him. The pain was gone. He glanced nervously at his hands.

They weren't blue anymore.

He breathed a sigh of relief and looked up.

The sky above him was blue and clear, and the sun had come up.

In the Cresley home, breakfast was over and Angela informed her parents that she had best be getting back to her apartment.

"Leaving Kaylee alone for this long probably isn't a good idea." She joked.

"Why don't you stay till lunch?" Her mother prodded.

"No, no… I would, but I really do need to get back to Kaylee and get ready to go back to work."

"Very well…."

As Angela and her father brought her few bags downstairs, her mother turned on the TV. A reporter's voice came over the speakers.

"… Still no sign of forty-two year old Charles Baker who went missing a couple of nights ago. However, police did find his vehicle toppled into a roadside ditch. Investigations near the site proved fruitless, and no body or evidence to Charles' whereabouts. The search will continue until suitable evidence is obtained. Meanwhile, police are still searching for the man charged with murdering his own daughter."

Angela glanced at the TV right as an image of Jessica flashed on the screen.

"Jessica, nine years old, was rushed to hospital after being shot and beaten by her father. She passed away at two-thirty A.M. The father has been identified as Conner Mason. Age fifty-three, six feet tall with light brown hair and a scar on his left cheek."

Angela whipped her head back around, hastily wiping a tear from her eye, and proceeded carrying her bags out to her car. When she came back inside, a different reporter was talking.

"… Reports have come in from all over the area. Apparently, some sort of metal object – some say a satellite – has been shattered and is now raining down debris. Police have issued instructions to, if you see one of these debris pieces, to avoid contact and call them immediately, as the debris may be radioactive."

Sarah turned off the TV.

"Hmm… wonder what that is. Sure hope there aren't any of those debris pieces too close to us."

"Mmm…" Angela kind of moaned her agreement. Then, finding her voice, she said,

"Alright, I think I better go."

After saying her goodbyes and allowing her father to inspect her car to make sure it was running smoothly, Angela was finally on her way. Passing the ditch on the side of the drive way, images flashed through her mind of finding Loki limp within the warped vehicle. The ruined car was no longer there, but the stirred earth and broken fence held enough evidence. Shaking her head, Angela fought to get the images out of her thoughts and continued on her way.

True, her week had been… strange. But now it was time to move on. She had no more time for Loki and his mischief.

It took Angela about half an hour to finally reach the other side of town and carry her stuff up to her apartment. Fitting her key into the lock and letting herself inside, she tossed her bags inside and shut the door behind her.

"Hey! Anybody home?"

"I'm in my room!"

Angela found Kaylee, her roommate, sitting on her bed staring intently at her computer, drawing tablet in hand. Without looking away from the screen, she addressed Angela.

"So, how was your time at you parents?"

"It was alright I guess, what are you working on?"

Leaning over Kaylee's shoulder, Angela looked at the manga style character being drawn on the screen.

"Not sure what I'm gonna name him yet." Kaylee continued. "I can't seem to find a name that fits him."

"Eh, you can worry about his name later. I like him though, looks good."

Angela stood up and prepared to leave the room. But Kaylee's voice stopped her.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Angela turned back to her. Kaylee saved the drawing and put her tablet down, turning to face Angela.

"Nothings… wrong. I'm fine."

Kaylee raised an eyebrow.

"I can tell when you're upset girly."

Angela tossed her arms up, grunting.

"Nothing! I'm fine! Just… have you watched the news recently?"

Though slightly confused, Kaylee nodded.

"Okay… well did you see the one story about the little girl?"

"I think so… the little girl who got shot?"

"Yeah. Well, I was in the hospital with her."

Kaylee straightened up and nodded solemnly, understanding. And though it is true that Jessica's passing plagued Angela, Loki was the reason she was disheartened. The very idea of him barging into their house, threatening and hurting her brother, it drove her mad! She hated it!

But then, every time she thought that, all she could hear in the back of her mind was a kind voice begging her to be merciful.

She wished she had never known about Loki.

After showering and throwing on a fresh pair of jeans and a tank top, Angela went to closet to fetch her coat and boots.

"Hey, I'm gonna run to the Laundromat and grocery store. Want me to grab anything?"

"What?!" Kaylee's voice came from down the hall. "You only just got back!"

"I know, I know! I just… I need to get out and do something. So, do you want anything or not?"

"Hmm… let me think. Oh! You should get me a box of Twinkies!"

"What?! Why do you need…?"

"Don't judge me! You cannot understand the relationship I have with my Twinkies! I must not be deprived!"

"Okay, okay! I'll get you Twinkies."

"Yay!"

Angela laughed and pulled on her fuzzy fur boots. Tucking her jeans into them, she stood up and pulled on her jacket.

Once downstairs, Angela tossed her purse and a bag full of dirty clothes into the backseat of her car. Then, putting the convertible top down, Angela drove off, savoring the crisp morning air. It seemed that her cares floated away as the wind whipped through her hair, and she couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter. Things were finally back the way they should be.

Reaching the Laundromat, Angela sorted the loads and threw them all in the washer before crossing the parking lot and heading into the grocery store. After buying a few necessities – and Kaylee's Twinkies – Angela went back to the Laundromat to switch her loads to the dryer.

While putting her groceries in the trunk, she suddenly felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she saw a small, thin man with oily hair and dirty clothes standing behind her.

"Good day miss." He said politely, his crooked teeth forming a soft, friendly smile.

"Hello." She said.

"I don't mean to be a bother, but you wouldn't happen to have a few dollars?"

Though Angela felt sorry for the unfortunate little man, she didn't want to give out money. Instead, she reached into one of the grocery bags.

"I'm afraid I don't have any money, but I do have this."

She pulled out a deli sandwich she had ordered in the grocery store.

"Would you like to have this?"

The man nodded eagerly, and Angela placed the sandwich neatly in his hands.

"God bless you! Thank you so much!"

"My pleasure."

The man smiled and trotted off with his treasure. Sitting down on a nearby patch of grass beneath a tree, he munched on his sandwich happily. Angela wasn't sure what to feel. She was happy that she was able to help him, but knew that tonight; he would be without a roof over his head or a bed to sleep in.

Turning away, she went back inside the Laundromat to wait for her laundry to finish drying.

From inside the Laundromat, she could see the homeless man seated on the grass, the half-eaten sandwich in his lap. He had struck up a conversation with a passing family. A husband and his wife stood about five feet away from him, the mother with her arms wrapped securely about her daughter's shoulders. The man held out his open hand to the husband, but he shook his hand and ushered his wife and daughter along. The thin man looked at them sadly, and then continued eating his sandwich. The family came into the Laundromat, and the wife set her daughter down on top of one of the washers.

"Honestly, Jonathan, you didn't have to be that rude to the poor man."

"He shouldn't be asking for money. You saw him. He obviously has enough money to go order a premium deli-made sandwich. Besides, all he would do with the money is go and buy drugs."

"You don't know that."

"Better not to take the chance."

Angela listened silently to their conversation, and then glanced out the window at the homeless man sitting in the grass. He seemed content enough, eating his sandwich in silence.

The dryer dinged, and she gathered her clean laundry, folding it and stuffing it back into the bag. Upon going back out to her car, she could hear the homeless man humming to himself. Looking over, she saw him rocking back and forth with his eyes clothes, humming a little ditty to himself. She smiled inwardly and closed the trunk of her car.

Suddenly, the homeless man grunted.

Angela looked at him again. He now had his hands clasped over his head and was rocking back and forth violently, as if recalling a horribly memory.

Loki wasn't sure if his eyes were deceiving him. From across the street, he had seen Angela go into the Laundromat, then the grocery store, and now back to the Laundromat. He had seen her interact with the small man, giving him food and smiling, where the other humans had passed him by.

Funny, the man had seemed human…

But now, Loki could sense a strange energy emitting from the skinny man. He watched him closely.

It seemed as if the man was at war with himself. Like some darkness was trying overcome him, and he was fighting back. Loki could sense the humanity fading from him, as each moment passed, he grew more powerful, more chaotic.

The family of three exited the Laundromat, and the man snapped.

Angela watched in horror as the homeless man screamed like a maniac, tossing his head back wildly. Then, his eyes glowing a wicked gold, the man reaching into one of the many trash bags that surrounded him and yanked out a taser, then took off like a madman, heading straight for the family.

Jonathan reacted quickly, shoving his wife and daughter away from him, he yelled,

"Run!"

An electronic buzz sounded, and he screamed and fell, his body convulsing painfully a few moments. He then went limp.

"Jonathan!" His wife screamed at the top of her lungs and ran towards her husband.

The homeless man held his taser aloft and yelled, then started dancing around as if to celebrate a victory.

Knowing full well time was of the essence, Angela darted forward and pulled the woman away from her husband. She yanked out her cell phone and thrust it into the woman's hand.

"Call nine-one-one!"

The lady stared blankly, tears streaming down her face, as Angela knelt down next to the man.

"Call! Do it! Now!"

"Mommy…."

Some part of the woman that wasn't consumed in panic responded, and she dialed the emergency numbers.

Angela laced her fingers through her hand and began chest compressions on the limp man. His eyes were blank as she tried desperately to get his heart beating again. Holding his nose, Angela exhaled into his mouth, and saw the reassuring motion of his chest rising.

"Hello! Nine-one-one?! My husband isn't breathing! This man… he attacked him…"

The voice on the other end tried to calm the lady down and talk her into giving them the address.

Angela again exhaled into the man's mouth, but he still showed no signs of responding. The homeless man still danced about, screaming some sort of inaudible victory mantra.

Sirens wailed.

The man's wife scooted closer to her husband, reaching out a trembling hand - desperate just to touch him.

"Jonathan! Jonathan, don't leave us!" The woman looked up in fear at Angela.

"Why won't he wake up?!"

"Mommy!"

The little girl climbed into her mother's arms, and her mother held her tight, tears streaking down her cheeks into the girl's hair.

More sirens.

Finally, after what felt like years, the Ambulance came to a screeching halt in the parking lot. Immediately, three physicians were out and running towards the man. Angela looked up and saw them coming. One of the physicians tried to pull the wailing mother and child out of the way.

"Ma'am! We need you to step away, step away please!"

The woman just continued rocking back and forth, her daughter wailing in her arms.

Another set of sirens and the screeching of tires alerted Angela to the presence of the police. Before the car was even stopped, a cop was out and running towards the homeless man, who seemed oblivious to the chaos ensuing around him. A swift tackle and a few expert maneuvers left the crazed man disarmed and in handcuffs on the ground

Angela exhaled into the man's mouth again and then, suddenly, Jonathan coughed and sputtered, gasping for air.

Angela and the other physicians breathed a sigh of relief, and the small crowd of people that had gathered around cheered.

"Daddy!"

The little girl wriggled out of her mother's arms and crawled over to her dad. He blinked and slowly put an arm about his tiny daughter's waist. Angela decided to back off and let the physicians handle the rest.

"You saved his life..." Angela turned to see the man's wife on her feet. She came over to Angela and flung her arms around her.

"I can't thank you enough."

Angela slowly wrapped her arms around the woman, not sure exactly what to do.

"I'm just glad I could help."

From where Loki stood across the street, he watched as the crowd applauded Angela for her heroic deed. She was so humble and modest about it. She hid her face and tried to brush it off like it was nothing. It was something strange to Loki, how much these humans value life. In Asgard, many take it for granted. Asgardians are hard to kill, and even if they are injured, the healers are capable of practically working miracles. Loki realized how fragile and weak these humans were, how short and sensitive their lives. They were weak in body and mind.

Mind.

Loki glanced and the homeless man who now lay wailing on the pavement.

He knew those golden eyes. They did not belong to any human.

Ancient knowledge.

Of course. His own superior intellect could scarcely comprehend the wisdom contained within the Bifrost debris; it's no wonder that a human be driven to the brink of insanity by such revelation. Should any unfortunate human stumble across the Bifrost shard, they would be dragged down under the understanding contained within it. So many of the horrible images in Loki's head made sense now. The murders… the betrayals…. That was not humanity. It was madness.

Loki suddenly took it upon himself to rid this madness from Midgard. Only he could remove it, he was the only one who could even begin to grasp what only the Gatekeeper himself could comprehend.

Old Heimdall, always honored for his brilliant mind. Could he see Loki, wandering around Midgard, of all places, gathering the knowledge that so many thought was only contained within the Gatekeeper's mind?

It was sometime before Angela was finally on her way back to the apartment. It had been a much longer day than she had expected. Now, as she drove home in the warm afternoon breeze, she felt a strange softness envelop her.

"_Not all Mischief is shrouded in secrecy."_

There it was again, that same voice that seemed to echo through her head every few hours. She rolled her eyes. Loki was gone. He was no longer a part of her life.

_And good riddance_, she thought to herself as she braked to a stop at a stop sign.

She thought too soon.

Glancing up at the hillside near the road, Angela saw Loki.

He seemed far away, yet not far at all. She could clearly see him, but he was… distant. His black wool coat and dark denim jeans seemed to flicker, at times giving way to his black leather and golden armor. He seemed almost like a mirage.

Shaking her head, Angela turned her eyes back to the road and drove off.

Loki watched her.

Had she seem him? No, that's impossible. He had hidden himself when he sensed her coming more than an hour ago. Slipping into another dimension where no human could follow. Yet she had stared at him as if she saw him, she had met his eyes…

Was it possible that she… a human, saw through his magic?

The harsh caw of a raven rang through Loki's head, and almost reluctantly, he look up to see two of the big, black birds perched neatly in a nearby dead tree. One of them cocked its head at him a moment before flying off after Angela. The other remained near Loki. Rolling his eyes, Loki ignored the raven.

"I know you are watching Odin, or do you really take me for that big of a fool?"

Danielle was miserable. An x-ray had shown that nearly every bone in her left leg had been shattered by the impact. Now, she was confined to a hospital bed, waiting till her leg was back in one piece and she could move about on crutches. Though, the gifts her co-workers sent here were pretty awesome, she would rather be out in the field, doing her job, rather than lying helpless— useless —in a hospital bed.

It was late afternoon when she received a visitor. James came in to check on how she was doing.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"I've been better."

"Yeah… well you missed all the fun down at the Laundromat today."

Danielle rolled her eyes

"Did you just come by to rub it in?"

James laughed.

"We had another one of those mad men attack a family."

"Oh… that sounds fun. What happened?"

"Man got a taser rammed into his spine, nearly killed him."

"Nearly?"

"Some girl who apparently knew CPR was there. She brought him back to life."

"Hmm… cool. It's good that he's alright."

"Yep… good stuff…"

"Hey!" A voice came from the hall. "There you are Jeremy! Been wondering where –"

There was a horrible sound of flesh being ripped and blood splattering, and voices screamed.

James whipped out his gun and poked his head out into the hallway.

Jeremy stood over the lifeless, bloody form of Doctor Morano, a switchblade in hand. His eyes glowed a wicked gold, and he smiled excitedly at James.

Odin stood next to Heimdall on the shattered edge of the Bifrost.

"You see him?" Odin asked.

"Yes." Heimdall's sorrowful tone caused Odin to grow nervous.

"He flickers between Midgard and another world. A world shrouded from me. He exists in both. On Midgard I can see him as he rebels and fights back against the ancient writings, he seeks to tame them, to raid their wisdom for himself. But yet in him I see weakness."

"Weakness." Odin scoffed. "There is no weakness. There is only defiance, cruelty, and hatred. The boy is foolish. To shroud himself away, feign his death. Only to reappear as even crueler than before. Foolish boy, he is a trickster, a liar, he is—"

"He is your son, Odin."

The Allfather's words ceased, and he hung his head.

"Is he not?"

Heimdall's golden eyes flicked back towards Odin, and the King of Asgard looked at the Gatekeeper.

"Yes… he is."


	7. Magic and Mayhem

Stars dotted the cloudless sky, bathing the valley in a cool, silvery light.

The simple beauty of the night went completely disregarded by the two shadowy figures that were rustling around in a ditch just off the side of the road.

"Agent Barton. Anything?"

Coulson wheeled around the face Hawkeye as he spoke.

"It's hard to follow something you can't even identify. And the dirt is all mangled here; two blood traces are crossing each other."

"Yeah, I know. There was an accident not too long ago; a car took a spill into that ditch. Based on the trail of blood from the debris site to here, whoever it was had been wandering about for a while before finding the crash site."

Agent Barton stood up.

"Just let me get something straight here. You called me all the way out here, away from the Tesseract project and away from Selvig, who I had personal orders from Fury to keep an eye on, just to track a tiny blood trail?"

"It's important Barton. Really."

Clint rolled his eyes and knelt back down to examine the disturbed earth. Running his sensitive hands over the ground, he felt something unnaturally smooth and fine. Taking a pinch of it between his fingers, he let it sift through his hands.

"What is it?" Came Coulson's voice from behind him.

"Hush!"

Barton brought the fine powder up to his face and inhaled slowly. He could smell the faint scent of a man's cologne mingling with rotten human flesh. He dropped the powder, realizing what it was. Spinning around, he went back over in his mind what must have happened.

A car spun of the road and tumbled into the ditch. The driver must have been killed on impact. Perhaps the car had caught on fire, burning the corpse within it. However, a quick scan of the fence and wooden sign that the car had broken in the accident showed no signs of any kind of fire activity, not so much as a discoloration.

Then the car hadn't caught on fire, someone else had deliberately burned the body.

A pair of footprints coming from the other direction caught Clint's attention – bare feet, scrambling down into the ditch and then dragging a bloody body up and out of it. Barton hopped up out of the ditch, his eyes fixed on the ground. His eyes followed the trail of blood all the way up the hill and straight into the Cresley Mansion.

Barton straightened up and turned back to Coulson. Pointing up the hill behind him, he said,

"Whoever it was, they went into that house."

Frigga paced nervously about the balcony, glancing nervously over her shoulder, then back over the crystal waters that surrounded the realm. She could see the shattered Bifrost leading off into the distance, where Heimdall stood, ever present, watching the other realms.

The soft caw of a raven and the glisten of silky feathers in the sunlight made her aware of Hugin and Munin's presence. She held out her hand and allowed Munin to land gently upon it. She brought the bird close, it's forehead pressed gently to her own. She mumbled her plea, and then released the bird to the wind, watching it glide off, followed closely by its comrade, to where Odin was waiting.

Loki lay flat in the grass, gazing lazily up at the sky. There was no moon tonight, so the stars were free to shine to their true brilliance without being drowned out by the luminous blue sphere. From where he lay in a small clearing on a hill side, he could see the city beneath him, tucked neatly into the valley, all of its many lights aglow.

The faint rustle of leaves and a twig snapping reached the God of Mischief, and in a flash he was up on his feet, a silver blade ready in either hand. He focused his sharp mind and peered out into the darkness before him.

A figure that appeared almost drunk wandered through the thick blanket of trees, moaning and thrashing about wildly. Then, suddenly, Jeremy lunged out from the cover trees. Loki instinctively leapt backwards and brought up a blade, but paused when he saw Jeremy's face in the starlight.

The weight of the knowledge contained within the Bifrost had taken its toll upon the poor man. He was malnourished. His ribs poked through and were clearly visible through his ripped and blood stained shirt. He shivered in the icy night air, his thin arms clasped about him. His hair was oily and tangled, and there was dirt in the creases of his skin. His eyes flickered back and forth between the otherworldly gold and his natural hue, and shiny trail of tears flowed from his eyes.

His body convulsed and contorted unnaturally as his human side fought back against the wisdom that sought to drag him down.

Loki sighed and sat down in the grass. This man was crazy, yes, but not dangerous. At least not at this moment.

After a series of harsh cries and painful seizures, Jeremy slumped down in the grass, sobbing.

"I didn't ask for this…" He whispered. "This is all your fault."

Suddenly, Loki was on his feet again and standing above the man, fists clenched tight.

Jeremy looked up at the God of Mischief, and his eyes began to cloud over with that horrible gold.

"You brought it here!" He screamed.

In the same moment, Jeremy whipped out a switchblade and slashed wildly at Loki.

The God of Mischief jumped back, but not before the switchblade caught him in the chest, and he felt warm blood trickling down his body. Jeremy was already coming at him again, switchblade aimed for his throat, but Loki neatly dodge the blow and swung around to land a hard kick in the small of Jeremy's back.

Jeremy fell hard, coughing up blood, but stood again nonetheless. Loki allowed his blades to slip into his hands and waited for the lunge. It came. Jeremy leapt at him, and Loki shot his arm out.

Jeremy saw it coming and immediately threw his arm over his ace. The blade imbedded itself in his forearm, but that didn't stop him. Loki dropped down as Jeremy came at him, rolling onto his back. His body tightened like a longbow, and with a quick thrust, he was up once again, another blade in each hand.

The God of Mischief hadn't intended to miss. He quickly realized this human would be more of challenge than he expected.

Jeremy gave up trying to tackle Mischief, and now he and Loki circled one another, growing steadily closer. Suddenly, Jeremy convulsed. His skin flickered and became blue, and his eyes hazed over red.

Loki stopped dead in his tracks, not sure if his eyes were deceiving him.

Jeremy doubled over, his head in his hands. His earthy brown hair turned black and grew out.

Loki stepped back, horror on his face.

Finally, Jeremy groaned and stood up.

Loki's jaw dropped.

It was him. Him in his own true form. The beast he fought so hard to contain within himself now stood right in front of him.

Anger boiled up inside of him, and he screamed and lunged blindly at Jeremy.

Jeremy dodged and weaved Loki's blows with ease, and the God of Mischief's own piercing laughter rang in his ears. Jeremy grabbed Loki suddenly and flung him back, sending him crashing into a tree. Pain shot up his spine and his ears began to ring.

_Does the God of Mischief himself lie helpless? He embraces his fear so much that he loses sight of his power?_

Loki shook his head. Voices ringing through his skull was the last thing he needed right now. Then, suddenly, he realized that he could not defeat this opponent without magic.

He closed his eyes and sought to clear his mind, but the harsh bellow of the monster before him caused him to lose focus.

Loki's eyes snapped open as Jeremy's fingers grabbed his hair and flung him across the clearing.

Loki fell hard, flat on his back, coughing. He could taste blood in the back of his throat. He cursed inwardly and pulled himself up.

No.

No fear. He would not allow it.

Shutting out the monster in front of him, he closed his mind to the outside world. The white noise of humanity faded off, all he could hear was his own heart. He could see it. A flame. He could see it growing. Growing stronger, brighter, hotter. He felt warmth in his hands and his eyes snapped open.

Jeremy stepped back, and Loki saw his eyes began to fade back to gold. He smiled. It was too late for that.

He yelled and shot out his arm, sending a blow of raw heat straight for the unfortunate man. The fire caught onto his flesh, and Jeremy began to scream. He attempted to run from Loki, but got nowhere. In Loki's hand, a lash appeared. It glowed an eerie emerald green as evil as his eyes. Loki whipped his arm around, and the lash rose, like a lazy snake, and then struck, catching Jeremy by the leg and dragging him down.

Jeremy shrieked in agony, rolling about as Mischief pelted him repeatedly with the lash.

Finally, Jeremy's body ceased its movement, and the flames subsided to reveal a corpse almost unrecognizable as human. Loki breathed heavily and began to laugh.

"Stupid, stupid man." He kicked the body away from him. "So typical of you humans to fall. Your weak minds cannot even begin to fathom the truth that surrounds you. But yet you choose to attempt anyway, and look where it gets you."

He laughed and kicked the body again, sending up particles of ash in the night air.

There was a quick pitter-patter of footsteps, and Loki could vaguely make out the shape of a woman running from the scene. Loki spat out blood and grimaced, holding his hand up to his bleeding chest.

Kaylee couldn't sleep. True, she usually would stay up late, drawing and whatnot, but this was different.

She just couldn't keep her eyes shut.

Rolling over, she glanced at the clock. Four thirty. She had to do something… he couldn't just sit here. Climbing out of her bed, she pulled on a pair of jeans and her black flats, slipped on her sweatshirt and slowly opened her door. Stepping quietly as possible down the hallway, Kaylee crossed Angela's room, finding it surprisingly empty. Straightening up, she peeked out of the hall to find Angela collapsed on the couch, asleep. She still had her shoes and coat on, but seemed quite comfortable nonetheless. Kaylee giggled and proceeded to slip out the door and make her way to the parking garage.

The harsh caw of a raven caused her to stop in her tracks and look up. A raven was perched in a nearby tree, its eyes fixed on Kaylee. The big black bird appeared as a silhouette, the silver starlight flooding in past it. Excitedly, she felt about her midsection.

"Oh, of course." She whispered when she realized she didn't have her camera with her.

The raven continued to watch her. Kaylee fumbled about with her phone before she was able to hold it still enough to snap a decent picture.

Looking down at her phone, she patted herself on the back for taking such a good picture. The shape of the bird surrounded by starlit leaves was truly beautiful. Kaylee only wished she had her good camera with her. _Oh well_, she thought and looked back up.

The raven was gone.

As Kaylee got in her car and drove off, the raven flew around to the other side of the building and perched on the window just outside of their apartment. Its glossy eye floated across the living room of the small abode and settled on Angela, limp on the couch, her left hand tucked up under her cheek and her fingers against her lips.

Munin shook his feathered head and slipped through the glass as if it was water. Plopping gently on the windowsill, he flew silently to Angela's side, hopped up on the arm of the couch, and gently tapped his head to Angela's.

The dreams that followed meant nothing to Angela that night. But come the new day, they would.

Angela leapt up at the sound of the front door slamming shut.

"Morning sunshine!" Yelled Kaylee.

Angela laughed and leaned back against the couch.

"Don't do that… you scared me!"

Kaylee laughed and handed Angela a Starbucks.

"Grande peppermint hot chocolate. You're welcome."

"Oh, my go—Thank you!"

Angela folded her knees up her chest and sipped her hot chocolate while Kaylee retrieved her own drink and a Twinkie from the pantry, then joined Angela on the couch.

"So, you going in to work today?" She asked.

"Yeah… why wouldn't I?"

"Well… I mean you know…"

"Yeah, but there are still people there who need care, I should go in."

"When is his funeral?"

"It's later today, I think three forty-five. I'll have to double check."

Kaylee shook her head.

"Horrible, he was a good man."

"Yeah… he was."

After eating a more substantial breakfast, Angela threw on a pair of scrubs and headed downtown to the hospital.

It was incredible how dull and dreary the usually lively hospital seemed without doctor Morano. Everyone seemed downcast and sullen. They had good reason, doctor Morano was always the one that would lighten the mood, encourage everyone. With him gone, it was almost as if no one really knew what to do. Angela checked in with one of the receptionists. Surprisingly, most of the activity had died down. Almost all of the patients were stable.

"Oh," Said one of the receptionists. "If you want you can deliver a patient their meal. She's in room three seventeen."

"Alright."

After retrieving the tray laden with less-than-typical hospital food, Angela made her way down the hall to the destination room. She paused outside when she heard voices.

"I don't care if my leg is a little bruised! I want to help! It's my job!"

"Your entire lower leg is completely shattered Danielle! That's not a 'little bruised'!"

"I can still help, James! I was here when it happened! I'm at least counted as a witness!"

A tap on the open door caused both James and Danielle to look up.

"Knock, knock." Angela whispered.

Danielle smiled and sat up as Angela placed the tray on the table by her bedside and slid it towards her.

"Thank you." She said and opened a jello cup.

Angela smiled and nodded at Danielle's leg.

"How's the leg doing? Any pain?"

Danielle didn't look up from her jello.

"Only when I move it, other than that it's doing fine. Thanks."

Angela noticed the man on the other side of the bed staring at her. She averted her eyes. Did she know him? He seemed familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Hey," He finally said. Angela reluctantly looked up at him.

"You're the girl that saved that guy's life."

Angela cocked her head for a second, and then remembered.

"Oh, yeah… um…"

Although she tried to hide it, she was blushing terribly. How did he know about that? True, it had been all over the news, but there's no way he would have been able to recognize her from just seeing it on the news. Then she caught a glimpse of his holster tucked under his arm and realized he was a police officer. Her mind ran back to the scene, and she suddenly remembered.

He was the officer that had tackled the homeless man.

"James. Chief of Police." He held out his hand, and Angela shook it.

"Good to meet you, now, if you'll excuse me…"

Angela slipped out into the hallway and proceeded on her way.

She hated it when people focused a conversation on her, and in all honesty, she didn't want to remember that day. She'd had enough adventure to last her a lifetime. Now all she wanted was her usual, relaxed life. Was that too much to ask?

After a rather empty day at work, Angela made her way back to the apartment.

Safely in her room, she slipped off her scrubs and pulled on a pair of black nylons and a black lace dress. A knock sounded at her door as she leaned over her dresser to put her earrings in.

"Come in."

Kaylee swung open the door. She was already dressed in a black skirt and jacket.

"Hey, almost ready?"

"Yeah, we can take my car. My keys are on the entry table if you want to go start it up."

"Alright."

Loki stumbled aimlessly along through the blanket of trees, his hand pressed to his chest, trying to stop the bleeding. Sharp, shooting pain still rang through his body. He was lightheaded and woozy and his white t-shirt was soaked in blood. Suddenly, he felt stone under his feet and looked down.

He was standing on a grave.

Looking up, he saw the next few hills dotted in gravestones and dead trees. At the other end, a procession had gathered. And, unless his eyes were still playing tricks on him, Angela was among them.

True enough, Angela was one in the sorrowful congregation. However, her black lace dress and dull stockings couldn't seem to fully contain her ever-present loveliness. She somehow still seemed to glow, even among the joyless gathering.

Then, another woman caught Loki's eye.

She hung around the back of the crowd, her blond hair tied up messily in a bun. She seemed to radiate a certain danger.

Loki immediately realized the situation. Straightening up and keeping his hand tucked under his shirt against his chest, he made his way over to the sullen group.

Angela fought desperately to restrain her own tears during the ceremony. But as each person walked up to pay their respect and to place something in the coffin, Angela couldn't help herself, and a tear ran down her cheek.

Then, as she stepped back, she saw something unexpected.

A young boy was pushing his way through the crowd. Angela blinked, not sure if she could trust her senses.

He wore soft brown trousers and a dull, earthy green vest. He giggled as he pushed his way through the sorrowful congregation, creating a certain mischievous joy about him as he did. Angela watched him and was unable to conceal a tiny smile.

Finally, the small boy managed to push his way out of the throng of people who seemed completely oblivious to his presence.

Then, Angela saw her.

The tall, beautiful woman stood a fair distance from the crowd, clad in a golden foot length dress. She had long blonde gold hair and beautiful, loving eyes. She smiled and held her arms out to the small boy, and he leapt into her grasp. The two of them smiled and laughed gaily, oblivious to the sad surroundings.

Then, as she held the small boy, she looked up and directly at Angela.

Tears came to her eyes and her lip quivered. She opened her mouth, but before she could saw anything, Kaylee nudged Angela.

"Hey, you alright?" She whispered

Angela whipped her head around to face Kaylee.

"What?"

"It's not like you to zone out like that."

Angela turned her head back around.

The woman and her child were gone.

And Loki was standing there.

Angela cursed her bad luck and quickly averted her eyes. How long had he been there? Or, even better, what was he doing there in the first place?

Angela felt anger welling up inside her. Why did he have to keep popping up? Hadn't he caused her enough grief already?! Finally, she couldn't contain herself any longer.

"I'll be right back." She whispered.

Then, without waiting for a response, she made her way over to the God of Mischief.

Thor stood motionless, staring out over the city beneath him. His fists clenched and unclenched nervously. His mind was spinning. Had this really happened? He didn't know what to say, what to feel, how to react. He had mourned for his brother these long months, only to find that he was alive? And not only alive, but wandering Midgard?

"_...I don't know what it was on Earth that could have turned you so soft. Don't tell me it was that woman!"_

The words rang through his head.

"_Oh, it was. Well, maybe… when we're finished here, I'll pay her a visit myself!"_

Thor slammed his fist down on the balcony ledge. He would not let this happen. He would not leave Jane alone, helpless, on Midgard with Loki running about. He would find a way to get back to Earth. He had to. Not just for Jane, but for his brother.

"What the hell?"

It was hard for Angela to keep her voice to a whisper. Loki simply smiled at her and replied coolly.

"Hush, hush."

Angela gritted her teeth and inhaled sharply.

"I knew you were low, but damn, showing up at a respected man's funeral uninvited, just to be rude… even I didn't see that coming. I mean really of all the things…."

Angela's voice trailed off as she saw Loki's bloody hand, still pressed to his chest.

"What happened?"

Loki looked down at her a moment, then back up. He saw the other woman; she glanced about casually, then met his eyes, and looked nervously away. Loki inhaled slowly. He knew what was coming.

"What happened?" Angela repeated, this time with more force in her voice.

Loki looked down at her.

"Close your eyes."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Just do it."

"I don't—"

"This is important. There are many places I could be right now; this was not my first choice to visit. Close your eyes."

Angela grunted and threw her hands up in despair. She knew argument was useless. She bowed her head and covered her eyes with her hand. Loki smiled.

"What do you see?"

"Are you kidding me?" Angela raised her head and opened her eyes back up, looking at Loki in disbelief. He reached out and grasped her shoulder, pulling her next to him.

"Look at the crowd."

Angela sighed.

"Okay…."

"Now, close your eyes." He whispered. "What do you see?"

Angela focused, trying to remember what she had seen. She saw the crowd, she saw Kaylee, she saw her co-workers, and then she saw someone else. A woman, tall, with blond hair tied up. Not someone she recognized, perhaps a family friend of the Moranos.

Then, she could see something else. Something emanating about her, an aura if you will. There was danger and forewarning about this woman. She seemed almost inhuman.

Angela opened her eyes.

The woman stood silently, her eyes fixed on Loki. She seemed normal now, Angela couldn't see the strange aura about her anymore, but for some reason, she sensed danger.

"I presume you saw it?" Came Loki's voice.

Angela looked up at him.

"You can see it too?"

"Of course I can, stupid girl. I just don't have to close my eyes to do so."

"I'm not stupid." Angela said as she crossed her arms and shifted her weight onto one leg.

"What exactly am I seeing?"

"It's magic. That woman, she had been affected by it. It has corrupted her, she is twisted. Her mortality and immortality feud."

Angela rolled her eyes.

"Uh-huh. Okay then... care to explain why I can only see it with my eyes closed?"

Loki's eyes flicked back to her and she felt her heart jump.

"I don't know."

There was a sudden scream from the crowd, and both Angela and Loki looked up.

A man lay on the ground, blood flowing from his head. The blond woman stood over him, smiling. Her eyes were gold.

People milled about aimlessly, screaming and calling out to one another. The woman turned to face Loki.

"Run."

Loki took his bloody hand from his chest and braced for a tackle. Angela backed away slowly, her eyes fixed on the horrible wound on Loki's torso. Just from that she could tell, he was in no condition to fight.

"Angie!"

Angela whirled around to see Kaylee jumping up and down, waving her arms back and forth like a mad man. Her face was a mask of horror and there was blood trickling from her nose.

The tall woman laughed and charged Loki. He quickly shoved Angela away from him.

"Damn you, I said run!"

**_Author's Note: Well, it's finally here... sorry this one took so very, very long. I do apologize. Anyways, here it is. Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews and support for the story, it truthfully means a lot to me. ^_^ More reviews are always welcome! :3 _**


	8. Mercy

The air was tense for Coulson. He hated this. He hated barging into a house, declaring this or that in the name of S.H.I.E.L.D. and demanding full cooperation. He felt as if he had no right to do so. But, for the safety of all those involved, he had to pull the charade once more.

He stood silent, his hands folded in front of him as one of the other agents banged on the door. There was a slight shuffle of activity from behind the big wooden door, and it opened, revealing a slender, sweet looking woman. She grew anxious at the sight of the men at her door, but remained polite nonetheless.

"May I help you gentlemen?" She asked.

"Madam, I am agent Coulson, with S.H.I.E.L.D. We're investigating the disappearance of Charles Baker, if you didn't know; his car was found at the edge of your property."

"We know." Came a deep voice from behind the woman. Mr. Cresley put a protective hand on his wife's shoulder.

Agent Coulson nodded. "I'm afraid we'll have to ask you a few questions."

Without waiting for permission, Coulson and the other agents strode inside; several of the others immediately fanned out and began sweeping the house for clues while Coulson simply meandered in the hallway. One crew made their way into the living area where the dishes from lunch still remained and the reporter pictured on the television was still talking.

"Hey, hey! What the hell?" Mr. Cresley marched up to Coulson as the agent spun around to face the family.

"I do apologize, but we have reason to believe that either Charles Baker or a witness to the crash came into this house."

"Mommy!"

Mrs. Cresley looked up as her son came bounding down the stairs. She ran up to him and wrapped her arms about him. Mr. Cresley eyed Coulson curiously.

"You're saying someone was in this house?"

Scott glanced nervously over his shoulder from within his mother's grasp, but decided it was best he keep his mouth shut.

Coulson opened his mouth to say something, but one of the agents yelled for him from the living area.

"Hey! We've got blood here!"

Immediately Coulson was in the living room and kneeling next to the big leather couch.

"Swab it; see if we can get a read."

"Yes sir."

Mr. Cresley stood silent in the entry hallway, his wife and son next to him. Coulson transferred his weight back and forth nervously as one of the analysts ran tests on the tiny splatters of blood.

He hoped, he prayed, that it was human blood. Perhaps the man had stumbled up the hill to ask for help. He just prayed it had nothing to do with the strange debris fragments that had begun popping up all over the area.

The analyst leaned back on his heels and sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair in frustration.

"Well?" Coulson asked nervously.

The analyst shook his head.

"Can't get a read on it."

Coulson sighed and crossed his arms, turning back to the family.

"You're certain, you saw no one. It's one thing for a person to break in or sneak into your house; it's another thing entirely if you allowed them entrance."

Mrs. Cresley shook her head.

"No one… not that we know of… we, my husband and I, we just got home from a vacation…."

"So the house was empty?"

"Well, no… my daughter was here, she stayed with Scott here at the house."

"I see, where is she now?"

"Well, she's at work I would assume… but I can assure you if she saw anything so unusual she would contact us immediately."

"Is it possible for us to get her address? We will need to speak with her."

"I beg your pardon," Mr. Cresley finally intervened. "But I do not feel comfortable with you snooping about my daughter's place of residence."

"Sir, I assure you, it is in everyone's best interest…."

"Shut it, I will not be disclosing any of my daughter's personal information to you and your goons. I let you barge into my house without calling the cops, but this has gone far enough."

"Sir, we simply need to locate whoever was in this house and make sure they are not a danger to anyone. For that, we simply need a description. Perhaps, if your daughter did see him…."

Mr. Cresley opened his mouth again, but this time Scott was the one to speak.

"He's tall."

Coulson immediately whipped his head around to look at the boy.

"What?"

"The man who was here…." Scott shuffled back and forth nervously. "He's tall. He has dark hair and his eyes…" Scott froze up as he remembered Loki's eyes snapping open as the God of Mischief had grabbed him. Coulson knelt down and looked intently at the boy.

"So you saw him?"

Scott nodded.

"Scott?!" His mother knelt down and grabbed his shoulders. "What on earth is going on?! There was someone here?"

Scott nodded again.

"He… he was down at the road." The boy recalled seeing his limp, lifeless form dangling from the car. "His car had been crashed and he wasn't moving… Angie brought him inside and took care of him, and then he left."

"She brought him inside, what? Scott, why did you not tell us this?" His mother demanded.

"It… it didn't seem important…"

Mr. Cresley suddenly noticed the slight bruising on his son's legs. The horror came to his mind that perhaps his daughter said nothing because she had been required not to.

"… This just in from downtown…." The television suddenly grew loud and the inhabitants of the house paused to listen.

"Police closed off an area of the Mount Vernon Mortuary Center after an assault during a funeral procession left four people critically injured."

"Mount Vernon… oh my go—Robert! Doctor Morano's funeral… Angela's there now!"

Mr. Cresley grabbed his coat off the back of the couch.

"Get in the car, now. Let's go."

Taking no thought of the men still in his house, Mr. Cresley ushered his family outside and into the car and quickly drove off in the direction of Angela's apartment.

"Where the hell are you going?!" Kaylee yelled as Angela pulled her black heels off of her feet and began to run back in the direction of the funeral home.

"You go on ahead! I will catch up!"

"Nuh-uh! I don't think so!"

"Go to the car, just wait for me there I promise I will catch up!"

With that, Angela ran back towards the funeral ceremony, not willing to waste any more time arguing. She knew Kaylee was scared out of her wits, and that her leaving her alone did nothing to help the situation, but she had seen the gash on Loki's chest. There was no way he would be able to fight off a crazed human like that. She knew from personal experience, it took at least four people to be able to restrain a person who was insane.

So, lungs burning and her legs going numb, she ran.

She wasn't sure why she cared, but something drew her back to him. Some irrational care she held in her heart. But the woman in gold she had seen had pressed some sort of recognition into her mind. Loki was a person, and he was someone's son. She had to help.

Loki doubled over, coughing up blood. He had managed to escape the crazed woman, but not before taking a savage beating to his already fractured and frail body. He pressed his hand to his chest. The skin that had begun healing over the few short hours of the night had been ripped open again. His arms were sore and his knuckles were swollen and bloody.

He suddenly heard quick light footsteps approaching and yanked himself upright, but then he noticed a sweet warmth radiating through his veins and knew whoever or whatever approached wasn't a danger to him. Suddenly, he watched the cold, dull atmosphere about him began to morph into the forests of Asgard. Memories of his childhood games came flooding back to him, and he couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

A gentle golden light filtered through the leaves and he turned to see his mother standing there, clad in her smooth, flowing robes, her golden hair tossed over her shoulder as usual. Frigga smiled and held her arms out to her son. Loki wanted nothing more than to run into her arms, but he knew he couldn't.

She wasn't really there… she wasn't standing there waiting for him to come to her. She would want nothing to do with him… he knew she hated him now. He knew that there was no way she could ever find it in her to forgive his wrongs.

But, still she held out her arms to her son.

Loki collapsed as a sudden pain rocked his spine. He clutched his hand tighter over his chest. He looked up. Frigga had begun to vanish, and the cold reality had begun set back in. Loki wanted to cry out, he wanted to beg her not to leave… but she wouldn't hear him.

He could dimly see a shape approaching him, but his vision was failing him. A sudden pair of hands grabbed him and pulled him up, preventing him from falling flat. He could hear a voice, sweet and distant, but couldn't make out what it was saying.

Angela saw how deep the wound was and immediately tossed Loki's arm around her shoulder and did her best to pull him upright.

He seemed to be only half-conscious. His mouth hung open and blood dripped off his tongue. He mumbled inaudibly to himself and tried to pull himself away from Angela's grasp and stand alone.

"No, no… come on now, you're alright…"

Angela's habitual instinct took over. She realized how much of a child Loki was, fearful and fragile. She did her best to pull him alongside her towards down the wet road to where she knew Kaylee would be waiting with the car. It had begun to rain, and now her hair stuck to her face, making it hard to see.

"Hey! Hey! Over here!"

Angela glanced over to see Kaylee jumping up and down, her arms waving wildly about her. She slowed her movements when she saw the pale man draped about Angela's shoulder.

"Oh my go—should we call an ambulance?"

Loki coughed and tensed up, but Angela quickly grabbed his coat collar and held him still.

"No, no… we just have to get him out of the rain… help me with him."

Together, they managed to sit Loki down in the backseat and strap him in. Angela hopped into the driver's seat and the trio made their way back to the apartment.

Thor's heavy steps echoed down the hall as he made his way towards his father's chambers. Anger bubbled up inside him, the thought of Loki wandering Midgard and his father doing nothing about it.

"_So earth is lost to us?"_

"_No… there is always hope."_

What hope? At first his desire to return to earth was fueled by a desire to see Jane. But no longer. Jane held a special place in his heart, but so did his brother. He knew that Loki was wild and reckless, and jealous as they come. But there were brothers, and no sin, past or present, would change that. Whether Loki would choose to accept that or not was his choice.

Thor found his father pacing back and forth, his gaze on the floor.

"Father…"

He earned no response.

"Father!"

Odin halted and looked up at his son. Thor's expression softened and he walked to his father's side.

"Hugin and Munin…. They are not often this late…."

"Father, you are weary. They will return in time, you should rest until they do."

"I cannot…" Odin's expression grew sullen. "I cannot rest… not until I know he is still alive."

"Father…." Thor suddenly grew nervous as he voiced his request. "I must go after him. I must find a way back to Earth."

Odin did not move for the longest time, then… he nodded.

"Yes, I know."

Loki's eyes snapped open to the sensation of something ice cold against his wounded chest.

Angela yelped and leapt back.

There was a silent communication between the two as their eyes met, and Angela pulled herself up off the floor.

"Sorry… I didn't mean to startle you." She stammered out, though clearly of the two she was more startled than he was.

Loki just kind of nodded and instinctively brought his hand up to his chest.

"Oh, don't do that…."

Angela took his wrist and pulled it away. He grunted and rolled his eyes.

"Don't be a child." She said sternly and pulled her hair behind her neck. "Now, this may sting a bit, just try to hold still."

She pressed the medicated cloth gently against Loki's chest, and he inhaled sharply. After cleaning the wound Angela bandaged it and stood up. She was still in her black lace dress and nylons. She picked Loki's shirt and coat up off of the back of the couch and put them into the dry cleaning bag. Loki watched her as she made her way about the small apartment, cleaning and straightening up though everything was already tidy.

Angela glanced out the window at the dark, stormy sky, then at the clock. It was only four forty-five. To her, it felt like it was midnight. She busied herself with whatever odd jobs she could find, trying not to make eye contact with Mischief. She could feel her eyes on him, and a tiny part of her immediately regretted bringing him here. Why didn't she just send him off to the hospital, let someone else deal with him? She knelt down and pulled a folded blanket out from underneath the coffee table and tossed it to him.

"Here, you should stay warm." She said before turning and making her way down the hall. She collapsed on her bed and moaned. She felt her door swing open and Kaylee giggled and came over to her.

"Hey." She whispered and sat on the edge of her bed.

"Hey."

"Why don't you get changed into something comfortable? I can make us some hot chocolate."

Angela smiled.

"Sure, that'd be nice."

Kaylee rubbed Angela's shoulder and stood, heading out to the kitchen. Now it was her turn to meet the God of Mischief.

Kaylee made a point of avoiding eye contact with Loki as he sat on the couch, the blanket wadded up in his lap, watching her. She measured out milk and pulled cocoa powder and sugar down from the cupboard.

Though she attempted to avoid eye contact, Kaylee found herself glancing back at him when he wasn't looking. She was intrigued by this strange man, and confused as to why Angela felt compelled to help him.

Loki simply sat motionless on the couch, staring blankly ahead of him. For once, the piercing voices in his head had completely dissipated, for which he was grateful. He barely had the strength to hold his head up, much less fight off disembodied tortures in his head. He sighed and his eyelids grew heavy, but he fought against his body's desire to pass into unconsciousness.

"Um… here."

He glanced up. Kaylee stood just to his right, holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate out to him. She looked quite the sight, with her wet hair from being freshly showered and her oversized t-shirt and gym shorts. Loki reached up took the cup from her.

"Careful, it's hot."

He simply nodded and wrapped his hands around the warm glass, enjoying the warmth in his aching hands.

Angela stumbled out of the hallway, both hands raised to her head and putting her hair up in a bun. She had changed into a tank top and a pair of sweat pants. Loki's sharp eyes immediately found the flame red scars across her arms, but he quickly looked away. The curiosity he felt was overwhelming.

"Ah, here you go." Said Kaylee from the kitchen as she poured another serving of hot cocoa into a mug for Angela and handed it to her.

"Thanks." Angela whispered and took the beverage. She turned back to Loki.

"How are you feeling?" She asked and knelt in front of him, putting her cup on the coffee table.

"Here, let me see." And she reached up to the bandage on his chest. Loki stayed silent and unmoving, his eyes flicking violently back and forth as he caught a quick close glimpse of the marks on her arms.

They were deep, far too deep to be an accident. He had to fight every nerve in his body to keep his mouth shut.

Angela peeled back the bandage a tiny bit to look at the wound.

"Oh…." Kaylee gasped and pulled a hand up to her mouth.

"I know." Said Angela. "It's pretty bad."

She was debating whether or not it required stitching. But, then… even if it did, she couldn't do something like that on him without an anesthetic, and she couldn't get a hold of one without checking him into the hospital.

A sudden, quick knock sounded on the door, and Kaylee went over to the door and poked a glance through the peephole.

"It's your family, Angie."

Angela froze from where she knelt on the floor.

"Oh, no… um…."

She grabbed the blanket from Loki's lap and put it about his bare shoulders.

"Just don't say anything, please."

Loki nodded.

"Let them in, Kaylee."

Angela pushed herself to her feet. Kaylee opened the door, and Mrs. Cresley immediately ran to Angela, throwing her arms about her.

"Oh… Angie… you're alright! You're okay! Oh, we were so worried and who the hell is that?"

Angela turned back towards Loki, who sat silent, watching the pair. Mr. Cresley came up behind the two of them and put a hand on his wife's arm and looked at Angela as well, an eyebrow raised.

"He's… um… well…."

She glanced back at him, as if searching for an answer somewhere in his expressionless face.

"He's my boyfriend." She blurted out. Her mother's face wrinkled in disbelief and her father just stared blankly.

"What?" They both said.

Kaylee stayed by the door with Scott, shuffling awkwardly from one leg to another. She put a hand on Scott's shoulder.

"Hey, you want some hot chocolate?" She whispered.

The boy smiled and nodded, and the pair headed into the kitchen.

"Well, what happened to him?" Her mother asked.

"Uh… at the funeral today… he just got a little scuffed up."

"So take him to the hospital…." Her dad murmured.

Angela knew her father did not approve of the situation at all, but at the moment his approval couldn't be her priority. She felt horrible, standing before her parents and telling a bold faced lie. Why should she care in the first place? Why couldn't she just have taken him to the hospital?

"Well… it's not that bad… and it's much less trouble just to take care of it without having to deal with checking him in and all of that."

Loki sat silent, eyes closed, listening to their conversation. There was a gentle shuffled of activity in front of him, and he opened his eyes to see Scott standing right in front of him, smiling. Loki chuckled.

"Hello." He said.

Scott smiled again.

"Hi."

How this child still found a way to meet his eyes, Loki would never understand.

"Can I have a word, Angela?"

Mr. Cresley took his daughter's hand and led her down the hall to her room.

"Alright, out with it… what's going on?"

Angela sighed and folded her arms about her. Where did she start?

"He's just a man passing through. He's injured and lost and very scared. Dad, I see stuff like this all the time. He's obviously been through something… and he just needs time to get through it. He's afraid of going to the hospital… maybe a past experience, I don't know. But, I don't know I just have to help him."

"Angela… it's not safe to have some man that you found on the side of the road in your home."

"I'm just taking care of him until he can leave."

"It's dangerous, Angel."

"Dad… you trust me, don't you?"

Mr. Cresley sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Alright, alright… if anything happens, I want to know the moment it does."

Angela nodded. Her father sighed again and wrapped his arms around her. Usually, Mr. Cresley could hold himself together very well. But as he held his daughter in his arms, he realized just how close he had come to losing her this day… and he wept.

After assuring her mother another thousand times she was alright and visiting with Scott, Angela said goodbye to her family and closed the door, leaning back against it and sighing.

"Well, that was something." Kaylee said from where she sat on the counter in the kitchen.

"Yeah…." Angela wiped her hair of her face and pushed herself off the door, heading back over to where Loki sat on the couch to pick up her hot chocolate.

"Oh, hey… did we return The King's Speech yet?"

"No… I don't think so."

Angela went over to the television and sorted through the stack of DVDs that was placed next to it. Loki watched her, as usual, and suddenly noticed more of the flame red marks.

They covered her back, starting in between her shoulder blades and wrapping around under her arms. How had he not noticed them before?

"Ah, here it is." Angela smiled and turned back around, tossing the movie to Kaylee.

"Awesome. I was just going to watch it on my laptop… but we could put it in out here if you wanted to watch it too. But then…." She glanced at Loki.

Angela looked at Loki a moment; he sat silent, staring down at his cup of cocoa.

"Eh, sure. Let's put it in out here." Angela said.

Kaylee put the movie in and grabbed a blanket from under the coffee table, bundling herself up in the big chair that sat under the window. Angela sat on the end of the couch opposite to Loki and pulled her legs up to her chest, sipping her hot chocolate.

Though Loki wouldn't admit it, he rather enjoyed the film. The story of a king who couldn't speak, and had found his voice.

Angela stood up and collected the empty mugs, taking them to the sink and rinsing them out. A soft knock echoed at the door, and Kaylee looked through the peephole.

"It's some guy… I don't recognize him."

"Hmm… well just keep the chain on and answer it."

Kaylee nodded and cracked the door open as far as the chain would allow it. She glanced at the boy at their door. He was about average height, thin and lanky. His cheeks were sunken in and his blue eyes had bags under them from a lack of sleep. He had messy blond hair and tan skin. His bottom lip had a scar on it from getting sliced open.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah… I, uh… I' sorry to bother you… but does a girl named Angela live here?"

Kaylee leaned back.

"One minute."

She closed the door and put her back to it.

"He's asking for you, Angie."

Angela spun around, confused.

"What…?" She went up to the door and looked through the peephole.

Everything seemed to freeze for her. Memories came flooding back to her. Pain. Anger. Fear. She suddenly grew cold and clasped her arms about her, shivering.

"Angie!"

Kaylee's voice brought her back to her senses.

"What… what is it? Do you know him?"

Angela nodded in disbelief.

"He… he's my brother."

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Ah! Took so long! . I am sorry, and would like to thank all of you wonderful people for your patience! These chapters are not easy to write, so again thanks for your patience! Read and review please! I appreciate it! Let me know what you think :D_**


	9. Merging Memories

Angela blinked in disbelief, and Loki saw the color drain from her face. She was scared.

"Um… let him in." She whispered.

"Are you sure?" Kaylee asked, not fully convinced that was the best idea.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm sure. Go ahead and let him in." Angela said, kind of in a daze. She took a few paces forward, away from the door, almost like she was floating off into a different world.

Kaylee undid the safety chain and opened the door, bidding the young man entrance.

"Here, come on in." She said, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Thanks." He murmured, his eyes already fixed on Angela. She cleared her throat and composed herself, turning to face him.

"Hi Angie." He whispered, almost in disbelief.

"Hey Joel." She said back bluntly. She wasn't trying to be rude, he knew that. She was just in shock. Though the boy took no notice of Loki, the same couldn't be said for the God of Mischief.

He had seen her scars; he had seen her reaction to his arrival. He knew that somehow the two were connected.

"It's been a long time." He said. Angela nodded.

"Fifteen years."

He nodded again, shoving his skinny hands into his pockets.

"Listen… I, uh, I really hate to bring this to you… but it, um… it's dad."

Angela inhaled slowly and nodded again.

"What about him?"

"He's gone."

Suddenly, both Loki and Angela took a new interest into the conversation.

"Gone? What do you mean 'gone'?"

"I was supposed to pick up… yesterday afternoon. When I got there, he was gone."

"The guards didn't see anything?"

"I don't know, I don't think so…. They didn't really say anything."

"Okay, okay… so why do you need my help?"

"Well, I was… I was hoping that if he was checked into the hospital, you would know."

"He hasn't been checked in that I know of." She replied simply, clearly wanting to have nothing to do with the situation. "But I can check for any John Doe's checked in during the last twenty-four hours."

Both Kaylee and Loki immediately noticed that, though it was obvious Angela had an emotional connection to Joel, she kept her conversation with him professional, like he was a total stranger. Joel knew better than to suddenly thrust all of this upon her… but he didn't have much of a choice.

"Alright… thanks. I, um… I can give you my cell number I guess?"

"Uh, yeah… here." She said looking around for her phone. It was on the coffee table. She leaned over and poked Loki gently.

"Hey, could you hand me that."

Mischief obliged, his eyes unwavering from Joel, who only just seemed to notice him. Their eyes met for a second, and Loki suddenly saw the same fear in the boys' eyes as he saw in Angela's. He noticed this time, not only the scar on his lip, but the creases on his neck and a few tiny marks covering his fingers.

Coincidence?

After a few more awkward attempts to create conversation and exchanging cell phone numbers, Joel left. Loki's curiosity grew, and he decided he wanted to figure out more about the boy. So, he stood and reached for the dry cleaning bag to retrieve his clothes.

"Ah, ah, ah! You can't wear those, they are all bloody!" Angela stopped him. He rolled his eyes and mumbled. He wasn't sure if using magic was the best idea, but he allowed at the very least a white t-shirt to materialize about his person. Kaylee leapt back and pointed at him in disbelief.

"Whoa! Nuh-uh… no! That's not…." She stuttered out.

Angela put a hand to her head.

"I'm going out for a while." Loki stated.

"Wait, wait, wait… do you even know how to get back?"

"I'll manage." He said simply.

Angela and Kaylee watched Loki leave, and Kaylee tapped Angela's shoulder.

"He… uuuuh… shirt."

Loki trailed behind Joel for some time. The boy was fidgety and nervous, always looking about and rubbing his hands together nervously. The boy eventually called a cab and drove off, and Loki grimaced, angered that he hadn't figured anything out. He decided he would go buy himself a new coat… but remembered he didn't have any money. He glanced about, then made his way back in the direction he had come, mumbling to himself.

Angela had decided she would wait back at the apartment to make sure Loki got back okay, but she received a call from the hospital requesting her presence during an orientation for new employees, so she reluctantly prepared for work and went in.

The hospital was buzzing with activity by the time Angela got there, new employees stood silent, shuffling back and forth, waiting for instruction.

"Ah, Angela. There you are."

She turned to the speaker, one of the new doctors who transferred in to fill the gap left by doctor Morano's death.

"We have a new employee who's a bit more experienced, coming from a hospital out on the east coast. I figured I could just leave her to you and you could show her the ropes?"

"Sure."

"Very good," He said and handed her a clipboard with a checklist on it, pointing towards the crowd.

"That's her over there, the red head."

Angela looked over. The woman was a bit taller than her with rosy lips and wavy red hair that fell just to the top of her shoulders. Angela thought she looked more like a runway model than a nurse. She approached her and introduced herself.

"Hello, I'm Angela, you'll be shadowing me today."

The red head held out her hand and Angela shook it.

"Natalie Rushman."

Loki felt a buzzing in his ear and immediately regretted leaving Angela's apartment. Now that he was out on the street, the voices came back full force. All around him he could hear the thoughts and ideas that sparked within people's minds. If he focused enough, he could dimly hear his father and brother arguing. He chose to shut it out and simply stared at his feet as he walked, kicking an occasional pebble out of his way.

'_I'm gonna kill her.'_

A sudden, angry voice rang through his head. Loki paused and looked up.

'_Ungrateful little bitch.'_

The voice muttered again. It seemed raspy and masculine, and it carried a certain, horribly familiar disappointing tone with it. Loki's vision suddenly closed in on a man miles away, fumbling about in a rage through the back alley of a department store parking lot. Loki muttered to himself, knowing that the man must have just been one of the many effected by the Bifrost. But as he watched the man out of the corner of his eye, flailing about and cursing wildly, he noticed that somehow his behavior was different than that of the others he had encountered. He was fully in control of his body; his actions, his anger, it all lined up with his words. He wasn't in some insane state. On the contrary, this man was perfectly sane. He was just angry, violent, and malevolent. He was evil.

Before Loki had time to fully gather his thoughts, a voice screamed out from the other side of the road.

"Watch out!"

Loki spun around not a moment too soon, and just had enough time to dive out of the way as a big black SUV rammed into the sidewalk and nearly crushed him. Loki saw a tiny glimmer of golden hair before the car shifted gears and sped off. Anger seeped into his blood and he tightened his jaw. Stupid, stupid mortal. He would be sure she learned her lesson.

From where he sat across the street in his black two-door Acura, Coulson watched the event unfold. He watched as the God of Mischief straightened up and dusted himself off. He ran over Scott's nervous words again in his head.

'He was tall… He had dark hair and his eyes…'

Coulson now saw why the boy had not been able to fully describe the stranger's eyes. Even from far away, he could sense the piercing cold in them and fear stirred in his chest. This man was dangerous; he had to find a way to get rid of him.

Back at the hospital, Natalie had been shadowing Angela. She was quiet and obedient, and simply did exactly as Angela instructed. Angela didn't think the redhead looked much like a medic. She had a clearly defined figure with lean muscles and a firm expression. She had the look of a professional trainer, not a long time hospital employee. However, she seemed to catch on to the flow and system of the small hospital, but was reluctant to interact with the patients.

"Well, it's lunch now." Angela broke the awkward silence between them, "You have forty-five minutes, do you remember where the employee lounge is?"

"Yeah… what about you?"

"Well, my shift is over for the day, I was just called in for shadowing. You can give this to doctor Morano."

She handed her the manila folder with her score sheet in it.

"Wait… doctor Mor—"

"Sorry, I meant doctor Brady." Angela swallowed and shook the folder slightly, and Natalie took it. Angela turned quickly without saying goodbye and signed out, anxious to get home. A horrible headache overtook her as she made her way back to the apartment. She heard angry muttering in the back of her head, distant voices arguing. She managed to get home and stumbled towards her bedroom and past Kaylee who attempted to greet her, finally collapsing on her stomach into the soft blankets of her bed.

A gentle ruffle of feathers alerted Angela to the raven's presence, and she moaned as her headache grew in strength.

"Oh, go away…."

She mumbled. If it was possible, the raven laughed at her and just hopped into her room through the open window and landed on her dresser. Angela grumbled and opened one eye to look at the bird. It cocked its head at her and leaned towards her curiously.

Sudden memories—not her own—came flooding back to her. Loki was screaming, crying almost, it sounded like. There was horrible laughter ringing through her brain. She felt a pain in chest; a deep longing, fear really. She felt tears fall from her eyes though there was nothing she could really think of to cause her to weep.

'I never wanted the throne! I only ever wanted to be your equal!'

'I will not fight you, brother!'

Loki's voice screamed against another.

'I'm not your brother, I never was.'

Angela's eyes suddenly snapped open, and the memories became her own.

'You never had a father; you were just an expensive mistake.'

Now, the tears were real. Angela curled up in a ball as the hot streams of water ran down her cheeks. There was a shuffle of activity from the hallway outside their apartment, and a sudden, angry moan echoed. Angela sat bolt upright, sending the glossy black bird perched on her dresser up in a panic and fluttering out the window.

"Kaylee?"

Angela squeaked out as she scrambled to her feet. She poked her head out the hallway and saw Kaylee standing up on her tip toes to look through the peek hole.

"Don't open the door!"

Kaylee leapt back and looked at Angela, fear and worry on her face.

Angela dug her hands into the corner of the couch and pushed it towards the door.

"Help me!"

Kaylee nodded hastily and helped her shoved the heavy couch against the door in a makeshift barricade. There was an angry mumble from the other side of the door and a harsh kick caused the door to rattle violently.

Joel wished that the meeting with his sister had gone better. He knew she was still scared. She had been so young when it all happened. But, then… didn't she remember him? All of the fun they had together as children, did she remember none of that?

Joel fumbled about, rummaging through the clothes tossed about in his tiny room. He had earned enough to rent a small apartment in a less than desirable side of town. He felt like a fool for living here all these years and not saying a word to Angela. She had every right in the world to be distant, but still he wished she wouldn't be.

Joel moaned and looked up at the mirror on the wall.

A pair of floating, golden eyes shimmered in the blackness behind him.

Loki heard the panicked scream from miles away, and in a flash, he was running. Lungs burning, heart pounding and legs tensed tight, he ran. He barged through the door of the small apartment, sending it flying back and banging against the couch behind it. Kaylee lay on the floor, blood tricking out of a cut on her forehead and the remnants of a smashed plate littered the floor surrounding her head. She moaned quietly, floating in and out of consciousness. Loki shot a glance down the hallway and noticed one door flown far back on its hinges so that it dangled precariously in the door panel. Loki crept down the hall and poked his head into Angela's room. It was empty. The sheets on her bed were mussed and there was evidence of a struggle. On the floor was a tiny, bloody earing bearing a little golden bird and glass beads.

_**Author's Note:**_

_**No... I'm not dead xD Sorry about the ridiculous wait on this (for those of you who stuck it out) To put it simply... LIFE. Yeah. You may notice this chapter is shorted. I've decided to shorten the chapters 1.) to make them easier to read 2.) make them easier to write - these things are not easy to type out people 3.) hopefully be able to update at a more appropriate rate. So, enjoy! Let me know what you think. All feedback would be much appreciated! Things are kinda sorta starting to get excited, hur hur!**_


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